


How To Ring A Belle

by BandraK



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Cussing, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Fluff, lost night, naked times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:02:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3970216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandraK/pseuds/BandraK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You ever have one of those mornings where you wake up and regret everything that happened the night before?</p><p>When Rachel wakes up in a shady hotel room buck naked, she thinks it's going to be that sort of morning... and then she finds an equally naked Quinn in that same room and things just get weirder from there. </p><p>Starting with the wedding rings their both wearing.</p><p>The only question — other than what the hell happened last night — is how much they'll regret once they remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ring Me In The Morning

“Where am I and more importantly, where are my clothes?”

“And here I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“Quinn?”

Rachel looked over her shoulder towards the pile of what she’d assumed were discarded blankets on her cursory glance around the small, cheap looking hotel room to find a pair of red rimmed hazel eyes peeking back at her from under a familiar — if unkempt — mop of blonde hair.

“Quinn?” She repeated, this time with less surprise and more confusion in her voice as she sat up; a move she immediately regretted when her stomach threatened to revolt if the wave of dizziness that swept over her wasn’t put in its place and fast. Preferably one as far from her body as physically possible. By the time Rachel was sure the only thing about to come out of her mouth were words, Quinn still hadn't replied so the brunette returned her quizzical glance to her unexpected roommate and found a now wide eyed Quinn staring back at her.

Or to be more specific, her chest.

Rachel glanced down.

Her panicked squeal as she grabbed the first cover she could find — a pillow — to conceal herself did nothing to alleviate the headaches of either woman and Rachel’s mad dash to cover her bare torso brought another warning from her stomach that it was in no mood for any shenanigans right now, please and thank you, and unless she wanted to review her last meal she should stop this nonsense at once.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I didn’t mean to stare-“

“I know. It’s not your fault I’m-“

“Stunning?”

Rachel’s head ducked down as she fought back the heat she could feel creeping across her face, her nausea a distant memory.

“Sorry.”

“Can we talk about something else please?” Rachel asked as she pinned the ends of the pillow against her sides with her elbows, then brushed her fingers through her hair only to end up with more of the dark brown locks covering her face then before.

“Yeah.” Quinn’s blanket shifted as she adjusted her position in the room’s single chair, the only piece of furniture in the cramped room beside the bed, nightstand, and cheap particle board box -- at least that's what it looked like beneath the faded and pealing veener that still clung to its surface -- that had been pressed into service as a TV stand. “Sure. Whatever.”

Neither girl was eager to make eye contact with the other but a rainbow glint drew Rachel’s gaze towards the blonde regardless..

“Quinn… is that a-“

The Yale student snatched her hand back below the blanket. “No.”

“Quinn.”

“So what do you remember from last night?”

“Quinn!”

“You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“True. And where better to start than with the ring you’re trying to hide from me.”

“It’s not what you think.” Quinn replied, her hand kept out of sight as she fidgeted in her seat, still not lifting her eyes from the questionable blanket shielding her from Rachel.

“So it’s not a diamond ring on the ring finger of your left hand.”

Quinn, head bowed, took a deep breath before slowly bringing her gaze up to meet Rachel’s. “It doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure we-“

“We?”

Quinn licked her lips, then nodded towards Rachel. “You… You’ve got one too.”

“What? I-” Rachel protest fell silent as she looked down at her own hands to find a slim band of gold crowned by a small, clear stone.

“Quinn?”

“Don’t look at me. I already told you I don't remember anything about last night.”

“Quinn!”

“I don’t!”

“Did we?”

Quinn shrugged, the blanket sliding off her shoulders to reveal lightly tanned flesh split by the tell-tale pale strip of an absent bikini strap.

“Quinn… what- what are you wearing under that blanket.”

A slow burn of rouge started to spread across the blonde’s cheeks.

“… Quinn?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 03 06 2016 (3rd June) - Minor editorial changes


	2. Ring Around The Posse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's worse than waking up naked next to someone with no memory of how you got there? Finding out you aren't the only two there.

Quinn’s head snapped up. “Did you hear that?”

“Really Quinn?” Rachel shook her head in disappointment at the other woman’s obvious attempt to change the subject. “Do you really expec-”

”Shhh.” Quinn hissed as she half stumbled, half leapt out of the chair to press two fingers against Rachel’s lips to silence the brunette while also satisfying any curiosity Rachel had about Quinn’s state of attire.

”Did you hear it that time?”

Eyes that had locked on the ceiling a second earlier closed against the sensations of Quinn’s warm breath whispering across Rachel’s cheek only to open again in confusion when she heard music.

No, not music… a ringtone. Her ringtone.

”Dasmyfome.”

”Shhh.”

The pressure of Quinn’s fingers increased against her lips and Rachel felt an overwhelming urge to lick the offending digits. Before she could make good her juvenile act, a memory stirred the murky depths of the previous night long enough to still her tongue before it faded away again too quickly for any details to resolve into focus.

But the faint shape it left behind in the thick fog that lay heavy over their forgotten evening was enough for Rachel to slowly turn questioning eyes towards Quinn's.

The call of her cell phone — muffled only slightly by the yellowing paint and thin wood that separated the bathroom from the rest of the hotel room — cut off half way through but Rachel had heard enough to identify it as the ringtone she'd set for Kurt. Maybe he knew what had ha-

Both women froze as a voice indistinguishable as anything more than a grunt, came from the bathroom.

Silence.

Another grunt, no more helpful to identifying the speaker behind than the last but this time clearly edged with growing annoyance.

”Rachel...” Quinn’s voice was less than a whisper as she lowered her hand from the other teen’s mouth to take her by the hand.

Both girls flinched when the sharp sound of metal against metal shot from the other room.

”I think we should go." Quinn tugged on Rachel's hand, nearly pulling her off the bed. "Now.”

Rachel made a desperate grab for the pillow that Quinn's yank had nearly dislodged. ”But I'm-”

A thump as something landed against the bathroom door echoed in the small room and this time there was no nearly as Rachel was hauled effortlessly to her feet only for Quinn to push the shorter girl behind her as her eyes scanned the room for something she could use as a makeshift weapon.

”Quinn.”

”Go.”

”But-”

Quinn spun around to face Rachel and seized her by the shoulders, her expression leaving no room for debate as she growled. “I said go. I am not going to let you get hurt.”

”But-”

The rusty rasp of the doorknob turning had both their heads swivel towards the bathroom door..

”I won’t- I can't-” Quinn’s hands tightened their grip before slowly tracing the contours of Rachel’s upper arms.

”Quinn.” Rachel turned back to Quinn

The click of the latch coming undone.

Quinn turned back to Rachel

"Quinn, I-"/"Rachel, I-"

Silence.

A cough

”When you two are done making out-” Santana said dryly from her spot leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over her chest as she gave the pair a brief once over before she closed her eyes against the throbbing headache that had the better part of her attention, “-Kurt wants to know where the hell we’ve been all night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 03 06 2016 (3rd June) - Minor editorial changes


	3. A Ring Of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward is as Awkward does and the only thing more awkward than Santana walking in on you and your former rival (and possible wife) naked is telling your best friend and roommate about it.

The faint “What?” that came out of Rachel’s phone went unheeded by the trio; Rachel and Quinn both too focused on the unexpected and unfortunately familiar figure still holding the cell.

One dark, sculpted eyebrow arched at them. “Or I could leave and tell princess to call back because I’m barely holding my stomach down as it is without having to watch you two trying to get busy.”

“We aren’t-” / “That’s not what-”

Their fervent attempts to counter Santana’s conclusion collided in their mad rush to get out only to be cut off by a monotone “Don’t care.” from Santana as she waved Rachel’s phone dismissively. “And I don’t want to see… that.” She gave another wave of her hand meant to encompassed them from head to toe, then tugged at the hem of her sleep rumpled dress with her other hand.

Quinn and Rachel both glanced at the other only to find themselves face to face with their au natural state — along with other body parts — and the pair hastily pulled apart only to nearly fall over each other in the race to grab Quinn's forgotten blanket from the floor.

A race Rachel won. She shot the blonde a sheepish grin as she pulled the sheet a few inches away from her chest without lowering it one. “You should-”

“No, you should. I’ll just-” Quinn pushed Rachel's hand back as she turned her head to the side and wrapped her arms around herself. 

“Could you two save this touching little moment of post coital awkward until after I’ve found a bottle of aspirin.”

Quinn threw an acid glare in Santana’s direction before pushing past the former cheerio to duck into the bathroom.

“We didn’t-”

“Still don’t care.” Santana cut Rachel off yet again as she tossed the brunette her phone.

Rachel managed to catch it without dropping the blanket — just — quickly tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder so she had both hands free to cling to her makeshift cover-up as she sat on the end of the bed, her back to Santana.

“Rachel? Hello? Is that you? Are you there? Hello? Someone? Anyone.”

Rachel closed her eyes as she drew a silent breath.

“Hi Kurt.” Rachel said with a smile every bit as artificial as the cheeriness in her tone. “How are y-”

“Who are you kissing? Where have you been? Why is Santana answering your phone? And who are you kissing?”

Rachel looked back over her shoulder when she heard the sound of the bathroom door clicking shut and found herself alone in the tiny and still anonymous hotel room.

Rachel turned back. “Kurt…”

“Rachel?”

Low muffled voices buzzed through the wall but the sound of running water drowned them out before Rachel could look back over her shoulder.

“Rachel? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yes." She glanced down at her left hand. "Maybe... I don’t know.”

“Rachel?” The concern in Kurt’s voice raised several degrees. “What is going on? Have you been kidnapped? If you’ve been kidnapped, cough once.”

A short volley of laughter broke past Rachel’s lips.

“Okay, so not kidnapped. Good.” Kurt’s somewhat calmer tone replied. “So if you don’t have a masked mad-man standing over your shoulder, how about you tell me what’s going on. What happened to you last night?”

Her mirth spent, Rachel sighed as she looked at the ceiling. "I wish I knew.”

“See, this is why you don’t go on a ladies night with Santana without inviting me along.” Kurt pointed out, his tone both teasing and serious.

“This isn’t Santana’s fault.” Rachel defended automatically, a beat later adding,“At least I don’t think it is.”

“Uh-huh.” Kurt sounded less than convinced. “But since we've established that there's an 'it' for someone to be at fault for lets start with who is responsible for you staying out all night, waking up not knowing where you are, and kissing as yet unidentified people?”

Rachel’s gaze returned to the ring on her finger. “I don’t know.”

“And I take it Santana doesn’t either? Or Quinn?”

“Quinn doesn’t know. I didn’t ask Santana but I don’t think she knows any more than we do.”

“And what about this guy you were kissing?”

Rachel’s teeth gave her bottom lip another tug as her thumb slowly rubbed the metal band “There… There isn’t one.”

The silence on the other end of the call has stretched to an uncomfortable length by the time Kurt finally spoke again.

“Oh.” he said softly. Neither speaking again for several seconds before he asked, “Wouldn’t that mean that you… kissed… Quinn?”

“It’s not like that. We didn’t know it was Santana in the bathroom and we were scared it might be some kind of killer and Quinn was trying to protect me- and-”

“… and you wanted your last act on Earth to be kissing Quinn Fabray?”

A heavier sigh slipped from Rachel’s throat as she dropped back onto the mattress, her legs dangling over the edge. “I don’t know.” She lifted her free hand into view and stared at the ring “It’s complicated.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Kurt.” She chastised, not appreciating the sarcasm in his voice.

“Understatement of the century, even.”

“Kurt!” Her hand dropped back to her side to help push herself up until she was one again sitting on the end of the bed.

“Quinn, Rachel. You kissed Quinn Fabray-”

“She kissed me.” Rachel shot back, voice rising.

“Did you try to stop her?”

“I-”

The sound of running water from the next room cut off, the silence left behind as loud as a gunshot in Rachel’s ears.

She quickly got to her feet.

“Kurt, I’ll call you back.”

“What? Rachel Barbra Berry, don’t you da-” *beep*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised 03 06 2016 (3rd June) - Minor editorial changes


	4. The Ring Of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Santana has never had a hard time speaking her mind but can Quinn find it as easy to listen to what Santana has to say?

What in the hell had she been thinking? It could have been some crazy psycho murder about to storm in on them and finish whatever sick game he had planned and her last conscious act on earth had been to kiss Rachel Berry?

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the first time she’d thought about doing that. Ever since finding out that Santana and Britt were more than just friends, some part of her had always been a little curious about what it would be like to be with another girl. Maybe, if she was completely honest with herself, even a little before she’d found out. And it kind of made sense that she might have imagined Rachel as that other girl once or twice; the animosity between them — mostly on her end — turned into friendship and even admiration as they'd grown closer. A closeness that allowed Quinn to see beyond the attention seeking diva most people never saw past when they looked at Rachel to find the amazing, caring — so long as you didn't get between her and a solo — and admittedly beautiful woman she was. So, really, it wasn't weird that that Rachel would play a staring role those rare times she’d let her imagination drift in that direction.

But that was just fantasy. It wasn’t like she ever thought she'd actually do it. It wasn’t like she lay in bed at night wondering what Rachel’s lips would feel like. What they would taste like. Whether Rachel’s skin would feel as smooth under her slowly exploring fingertips as it looked like it would or if Rachel’s moans would sound more like singing or have the same siren effect on her that always sent a tingle down her spine when she watched Rachel perform.

Because she hadn’t.

Quinn looked into the doubtful expression of her reflection that stared back at her from the confines of the aged crazed silver of the mirror bolted to the wall with screws stained by rust where the multiple layers of paint had broken away to expose neglected metal.

“So… You and Berry. Can’t say I’m all that surprised.”

“Get out.” Quinn broke her face-off with her reflection and reached for the water-spot marred handle marked with a rust-stained 'C'. A glint drew her eye to her finger and her hand paused for a moment before she focused on the plug free drain and cranked the handle as far as she could, quickly splashing her face with a double handful of icy water.

“Or I could stay-”

“I said get out.”

“ ‘Cause, “ Santana continued, ignoring Quinn’s interruption, “the alternative is I go out there and spend time with Rachel… alone… while she’s talking to Kurt.” Quinn said nothing as she refilled her hands. "Think she’s gonna tell him about your little kiss or keep it a secret? Me, I’d give it 50/50 either way. She looked like she was really enj-”

“What do you want?” Quinn cut off her ‘friend’ again as she dumped the water down the drain before gripping the scratched and chipped edges of the use-worn sink.

It might have been a chuckle but to Quinn it sounded more like a cackle. Whatever it was it was thankful short lived and quiet.

“Damn Q, I’m hurt.”

“And I'm really not in the mood, Santana-”

“Relax. Believe it or not I’m here as your friend right now. I know what you’re going through; went through it myself not that long ago-”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not like that. I don’t… I just don’t.”

“Except for that one time you did.” Santana shrugged. “Two times, technically”

Quinn went stiff for a moment, then shot an almost panicked look at the bathroom door. “You promised never to talk about that.” She hissed, her voice barely above a whisper but more than strong enough to carry the double load of fear and anger.

“Don’t worry.” Santana soothed just as softly. “She doesn’t know about our little tryst and God willing, she never well. Especially not now given your circumstances-”

Quinn pushed herself away from the sink and turned to face the other woman. “What circumstances exactly.” She demanded under her breath. “I got drunk, we all did, I woke up hung over, we all did, I wasn’t thinking straight and neither was she.”

“That much was obvious” Santana did nothing to hide the smirk that framed her lips at her chosen interpretation of Quinn's words.

”Do you have to be such a-”

“Bitch? Yeah, I do. Especially with this damn hangover pounding away at my head but believe it or not, Q, I’m your bitch.” Santana held up her hand. “Not like that. I could still take you any day of the week so don’t go thinking I’m going soft. I’m your bitch because I’m the only one with the balls to be a bitch to you and right now, damn, Q, you need one.” She reached out to talk hold of Quinn by her shoulders but Quinn shrugged her hands off. “Fine. You want to play it like that go ahead, I don’t blame you. We both know that we haven’t always got along and God knows there have been times when we both would have loved to see the other fail, but just because I’m a bitch doesn’t mean I’m not your friend and whether you want to accept it or not, I care about you just like you care about me. More than either of us want to admit. Just like you care about Rachel more than you want to admit.”

“Fuck y-“

“No. You don’t get to talk yet. I will tell you when I’m done and if you still want to curse me out, you go right ahead but one way or the other I’m having my say and we can do it now, just you and me, or we can do it out there in front of Rachel. Your choice.”

Quinn’s hand tightened into a fist at her side as she looked past Santana to the door. Her hand slowly uncurling after several seconds.

“Good choice.” Santana said to Quinn’s back as the other woman turned away from her. She didn’t need to see Quinn to say what what needed to be said and Quinn didn’t need to see her to hear what she needed to hear.

“You’ve been obsessed with that girl for years but you were so tied up in trying to live up to the strait-laced, catholic school girl, perfect grades, perfect boyfriend, perfect future, perfect daughter, perfect family bullshit persona that you built for yourself to see it. Jesus Q, you were so far in the closet the marching band couldn't budge you it if they wrapped you up in 'Free the Gaybray' banners and tried to haul you out by double timing it with Sylvester screaming in their ears. And I should know cause I was right there with you, Q. I was so obsessed with being who I thought I had to be to admit I was in love with B and not a day goes by I don’t regret wasting every minute I did because I was too scared of what I was, what I wanted, to admit it to myself and I’ll be damned if I let you waste one more fucking minute because you will regret it for the rest of your life. It will eat at you. It might take years but it _will_ cause you more heartache and grief then you, for all the shit you’ve been through, can even begin to imagine.”

Santana took a deep breath and tried again to put a hand on Quinn’s shoulder. This time it wasn't rejected.

“So before you tell me again how 'it’s not what I think' or how you’re 'not into that' or whatever other excuses you’ve got running around that pretty little head of yours, take a deep breath, close your eyes, and ask yourself if that’s what you really want, or if it’s the girl on the other side of that door. You do that and you still think all of this is just 'cause we got drunk' and I’ll shut the hell up.”

Santana gave Quinn’s shoulders a squeeze before letting her hands slide down to hold the blonde’s arms just above her elbows. “Either way, Q, I’m always gonna be your bitch, day or night.” She gave another gentle squeeze before she let go. “So you take as long as you need to think and I’ll go see if I can’t find your clothes.”

She flashed Quinn a small grin as she leaned past her to turn off the faucet, handed her a towel, then closed the door behind her as she stepped back into the other room

Quinn stared at the door for several seconds, holding the towel against her chest where she’d caught it, then turned away. She finished unfolding the surprisingly large, fluffy, and given the rest of the hotel room’s appearance, clean terrycloth and wrapped it around herself, tucked a corner under to hold the towel into place, then took a seat on the toilet’s closed lid.

She looked down to find her right hand fidgeting with the ring on her left and pulled the two apart. Her arms wrapped around herself as she gave the bathroom door another glance.

Quinn closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Published: 19 05 2015 (19th, May)**
> 
> **Revised: 03 06 2016 (3rd June)** \- Minor editorial changes
> 
> **Revised: 09 06 2016 (9th, June)** \- Significant editorial changes
> 
> The exchange between Quinn and Santana near the end of the chapter has changed significantly in tone. 
> 
> Specifically, from:
> 
>   _“That much was obvious” Santana did nothing to hide the smirk that framed her lips at her chosen interpretation of Quinn's words._
> 
>  to
> 
> _Quinn stared at the door for several seconds, holding the towel against her chest where she’d caught it, then turned away. She finished unfolding the surprisingly large, fluffy, and given the rest of the hotel room’s appearance, clean terrycloth and wrapped it around herself, tucked a corner under to hold the towel into place, then took a seat on the toilet’s closed lid._
> 
> has been revamped. The original portrayal of Santana felt a little too OOC and has always been a sticking point for me. 
> 
> For anyone interested, the original version is included below:
> 
> So then what the fu-”
> 
> “Q. Quinn. Stop.” Santana held up her hand before taking hold of Quinn by her shoulders. “I love you-” The pointer finger on her left hand extend up to cut Quinn off before she could speak, “-as a friend. I know we haven’t always got along; and God knows there have been times when we both would have loved to see the other fail, but I am your friend and I do care about you so shut up for 30 seconds and trust me when I tell you this as your friend. Pretending that that,” Santana gave a nod towards the bathroom door and the room beyond it, “didn’t happen, that it wasn’t what it was,is going to be something you will regret for the rest of your life. It will eat at you. It might take years but it _will_ cause you more heartache and grief then you, for all the shit you’ve been through, can even begin to imagine so before you tell me again how it’s not what I think or you’re not into that or whatever other excuses you’ve got running around that pretty little head of yours, take a deep breath, close your eyes, and put yourself back in that moment. You do that and you still think it was just 'cause of a hangover' and not something else and I’ll be right there behind you all the way.”
> 
> Santana gave Quinn’s shoulders a squeeze before letting her hands slide down to hold the blonde’s arms just above her elbows. “And if you think it was something else, I’ll be there for you too. Day or night.” Her hands gave another gentle squeeze before letting go. “So you take as long as you need to think and I’ll go see if I can’t find your clothes.”
> 
> She flashed Quinn a grin as she tossed her a towel, turned off the faucet, then closed the door behind her as she stepped back into the other room
> 
> **Revised: 11 07 2016 (11th, July)** \- Moderate editorial changes
> 
> Added a mention of Quinn 'experimenting' with Santana to better establish this event for later chapters (13/14).


	5. Ring For The Bellman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysteries keep piling up when Rachel finds that there is more missing than just her memory from last night.

“Quinn, I-" Rachel's shoulders, and her expression, both fell and she went back to staring at her lap. "Oh. It’s you.”

Santana shook her head as she bit back a smile. “Damn Rach, it’s a good thing I’m not the sensitive type or I’d be hurt.”

“I'm sorry Santana. I didn’t mean to-”

“Relax. I’m just pulling your leg.” Santana let the smile stretch out across her lips as she took a seat on the bed. “You know, now that Quinn’s not hogging it all to herself.”

“Nothing happened.” Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. “And I would thank you to stop making jokes about this.”

“You’re right.” Santana said, adopting the same pose. “No more jokes. Nothing but Serious from here on out.” She waited a beat, then added “Like the rings you two are sporting.”

Rachel looked down at the band of gold circling her finger and quickly unfolded her arms to press her left hand against her stomach and cover it with her right, but not before she twisted the ring to re-center the crystal clear gemstone. “I- I’m sure it’s nothing. All we have to do is figure out what happened last night and I’m sure we'll find a perfectly innocent explanation.”

“Because waking up naked with someone else is always innocent.” Santana said without a trace of irony or sarcasm in her voice.

Rachel was not impressed by this feat. “You know, you could do something useful. Like help me to find Quinn’s clothes instead of standing there making snide comments.” She fired back with more than a trace of irritation in her voice, then got to her feet to begin the search with or without the other girl’s help.

Instead of jumping to her feet to help or pointing out that Rachel was just as in need of finding her missing clothes as Quinn, Santana turned her eyes towards the ceiling and gave her head a quick shake for any deity that may be watching. A quick glance towards the bathroom was the only other delay before she slowly stood up to join Rachel in her sartorial search. The room was small even without the minimal furniture and it was a matter of seconds, not minutes, before neither of them could deny the truth; whatever had happened to their clothes, they weren't here. 

“They have to be somewhere.” Rachel said, turning over the pillow that she'd already turned over a half dozen times already. “We couldn’t have just shown up here naked and rented a room.”

Santana tilted her head to the side, an eye brow raise as she turned toward the other woman.

“Don’t!” Rachel said without looking up as she got down on her knees to peek under the bed frame again.

“You don’t know-”

“Yes I do.” Rachel said, her head popped back into view to give Santana a knowing look that fading to one of worried defeat as she propped her elbows on the edge of the mattress, chin rested in cupped hands.

Santana’s shoulders dipped. She half leaned, half crawled from her spot on the other side of the bed to take hold of Rachel’s hands. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Okay? Like you said, You couldn’t have shown up here like this so your clothes have got to be around here somewhere. We’ll find ‘em, get you two dressed, and then back track our way through last night Hangover style.”

She pulled herself the rest of the way across the mattress and joined Rachel kneeling beside the bed, then gave her friend a shoulder bump. “Only with no monkeys and fewer angry Asians... Unless Tina's hanging around here somewhere.”

A single laugh escaped from Rachel’s mouth and a hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “Thank you.” She rested her head on Santana’s shoulder and her smile grew a half size larger when she felt Santana’s head rest gently against her own. Her arm slipped around Santana’s waist.

“Am I interrupting you two?”

“Quinn!”

“Ow.”

“Sorry.” Rachel winced as she turned to find Santana cradling her cheek where Rachel’s sudden head jerk had left its mark.

“Whatever.” Santana rubbed her cheek before turning her own gaze from the guilty brunette by her side to the blonde watching them.

“I’m still sorry.” Rachel gave the room a quick glance as she added, "Perhaps we should get a little ice for it just to be sure? I’m pretty sure I saw an ice bucket earlier.“

Quinn’s eyes swept the room. For all the dishabille of their accommodations, Santana and Rachel’s short hunt for their outfits had left a noticeable change. “What the hell were you two doing?”

“Looking for your clothes.” Santana replied, matching the edge in Quinn’s tone. “We didn’t find any.”

“Found it.” Rachel held the empty ice bucket, a yellowed plastic affair, over her head.

"Did you call the front desk?”

“For ice? Wouldn’t room service be better?” Rachel asked as she struggled to climb onto the bed while holding the bucket triumphantly in one hand, the other pressed to her chest to keep the blanket wrapped around her from falling down.

Quinn rolled her eyes before she picked up the handset of the rotary style phone half buried beneath another pillow and pressed it against her ear. “Yes, hi. Is our laundry done? … Great. … Yes we would. Thank you. … Bye.” She hung up the phone, turned to the other two, and shook her head.

“I’m going to take a shower. You can put my clothes in bathroom when they get here.”

Santana and Rachel both watched Quinn disappear back into the bathroom and Santana turned to look over at Rachel with an expression of surprised disbelief as the door closed behind Quinn. " _This_ dump has laundry service?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised: 03 06 2016 (3rd June) Minor editorial changes


	6. Ring Down The Curtain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the mystery of their clothing sorted out, Rachel sets about solving the mystery of the previous evening only to have Fate, and gravity, reveal that the mystery is much bigger than first thought.

With a final hop, Rachel managed to get herself onto the bed without incident though she did have lean to one side then the other as she gave a quick tug on the blanket after each shift in order to gain some much needed slack in the fabric before she settled into place with the ice bucket resting in her lap. She gave the room a once, the brief pause as Rachel's gaze passed over the bathroom door not gone unnoticed by the only one of the trio still in possession of her clothes even if it do go without comment.

Her fingers toyed with the loose knob on the container's plastic lid as she focused on Santana. "Now that you mention it, that does seem a little fancy given the, for lack of a more polite word, decor." 

Santana gave a nod in reply, then let out a groan before she brought a hand to her temple to try and rub away the dull ache that had returned with a vengeance now that she had nothing to distract her. Getting clocked by Rachel’s head hadn’t helped any either. “You got any aspirin?” She asked as she flopped onto the mattress crosswise behind Rachel.

“I don’t have clothing, Santana, let alone any pockets. Where exactly do you think I would be keeping any-”

Santana had just enough time to turn her head towards Rachel to find out why she'd cut herself off before the smaller woman leapt to her feet with a victorious and pain inducing cry.

“Dammit, Berry.”

“What?” Rachel looked over her shoulder. “Oh. Sorry. If it helps I think I might be able to get you some aspirin after all.”

The scowl on Santana's face relaxed slightly. “I’m listening.”

“Purses.” Rachel said, her excitement temporarily raising her volume again before she flashed a sheepish grin at the other woman. “We may have sent our clothes to be laundered but we wouldn’t have sent our purses. And there may be some clues as to what happened last night inside them." She raced through her explanation, her guilty grin turning into one of pride at the brilliance of her deduction along the way before dimming slightly as she added, "Along with some pain relief for you, of course."

"Of course." Santana slowly pushed herself up until she was sitting on the edge of the bed to watch Rachel as she crawl around on her hands and knees in another sweep of the too-small room. She sighed. “Hate to burst your bubble, Rach, but you’re not going to find anything.”

“I know we already search, Santana, but that was for our clothes. It’s entirely possible we just overlooked our purses a-”

“No it isn’t.”

Rachel turned to look at her, her smile from seconds earlier now completely replaced by a frown “You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. For one, this place isn’t that big. For another, where do you think I got your phone?”

Rachel’s eyes travelled from Santana’s to the end of the bed where her cell still lay where she’d dropped it after ending her conversation with Kurt then slowly panned around the room as she turned her head to the other side to look at the bathroom door through which the sound of a running shower could be clearly heard.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” Santana agreed before she lowered herself back down onto the bed. “‘Course it’s not like you haven’t seen it all already and what with you two being hitched and all-”

“We are not 'hitched'.” Rachel snapped, her head whipped round to give Santana a short but stern glare before she turned away again.

San bit back another groan as a fresh wave of needles stabbed into her eyes, aided by the sharp if brief rise in the volume of Rachel's voice. “Maybe, maybe not but the only way to know for sure is to figure out how the two of you ended up butt naked and sporting matching jewellery and, like you said, there may be some answers in your purse along with some extra strength pills for yours truly.” Santana pulled Rachel's abandoned pillow over her eyes, the sound of her own voice only adding to her agony but the promise of medication kept her going. “Besides, she already gave her permission to put her clothes in there when they show up so it’s not like she isn’t expecting you to go in anyway. And if you’re really concerned about violating her trust or whatever, all you gotta do is not look. Shouldn’t be too hard since you two aren’t interested in each other that way, right?”

Rachel brushed the tips of two fingers over her lips as Santana's less than subtle question triggered the memory of Quinn's mouth pressed to her own before dropping her hand to her side, then hiding it behind her back as she looked over at the bed again and tried to ignore the sense of relief she felt to see that Santana hadn’t caught either gesture. “I suppose you have a point.” She said, trying her best to project a reluctant acceptance into her words as she got to her feet. “And Quinn did give her permission.” She added as she shuffled over to the bathroom door. “And I have no intention of peeking…”

Beneath the pillow, Santana rolled her eyes as the sound of the shower grew louder for a few seconds before fading back into the background with a click.

“And she want’s to be an actress.”

* * *

There was more steam than she’d expected and Rachel only just stopped herself from flicking the switch for the vent fan. Just because she technically had good cause and permission to be here didn’t mean she should draw any attention to her presence. Besides, more steam meant less chance of accidental seeing something she shouldn’t.

Again.

And since the bathroom could generously be classified as small at best, the extra steam wouldn’t slow her search down too much anyway.

Speaking of which, she should get to searching. Santana had probably spent the night in the tub since it offered a marginally more comfort than the floor but Quinn would have taken their purses out before she started her shower so she could safely scratch that off the list. That didn't stop her from sneaking a glance in the general direction of the shower before Rachel half turned her back to the closed curtain and waved her hand to clear enough of the steam to get a proper look at what little counter-space existed next to the sink.

And little was being more than generous. There was just enough laminated wood around the edge of the sink to hold the basics; tooth brush, toothpaste, comb. Nowhere to fit three purses; even ones as small as the handbags they'd had with them last night.

She gave her hand another wave through the roiling clouds of off white mist on the far side of the sink.

Victory. Resting on the toilet's tank sat all three of their bags. Or at least Rachel assumed all three where there, she could only see the corner of her own peaking out from under the towel that Quinn had no doubt thrown over them to protect them from the steam but the indistinct lump under the towel was far too big to be made by just hers.

Without bothering to check, Rachel tucked the towel's edges under the lump, grabbed the resulting bundle, then turned to leave.

That’s when it started.

Quinn was singing.

Technically it was more humming with the occasional lyric but it was enough to stop Rachel in her tracks. She’d always loved the sound of Quinn’s voice. Well, not always. Back before glee club had changed everything, Quinn’s voice had been too intimately associated with insults and ice cold beverages to the face for Rachel to truly love but even then there had been a quality to it that she couldn’t help but envy just a little. She’d always thought it was the power behind it, the assurance that told anyone who heard it that Quinn Fabray was not to be trifled with but from the moment Rachel had first heard Quinn sing she’d known there was so much more to it than that. Yes, it was true that Quinn’s voice would never be as technically proficient or well trained as her own but after years of listening to Quinn sing, of getting to know the woman behind the voice, Rachel had realized it wasn’t the bold confidence that made Quinn’s voice so entrancing, it was the vulnerability. Behind all the bravado and take no prisoners attitude that had been Quinn Fabray, cheerleader; it was the lost, self conscious teenage girl that came through in those unguarded moments when Quinn allowed herself to get caught up in the song, to let herself go in the moment that had truly captured Rachel’s admiration.

That was the Quinn she’d fallen for.

Musically speaking.

Rachel gave her head a hard shake and forced her feet into action. She’d almost made good her escape when she heard the telltale scrape of metal on metal as Quinn pulled back the shower curtain.

“Rachel?”

“Quinn.” Rachel heard the curtain rings shift again and turned around to find Quinn’s head and shoulders visible with the rest of her hidden away. “I was just getting these?” She held out the towel wrapped bundle to prove she was telling the truth. A heartbeat later, and with her arms no longer holding it in place, the steam soaked sheet wrapped around her body decided to give into Gravity’s allure and start a new life together on the floor.

And a heartbeat after that Santana poked her head through the door. “Clothes are here.”

Rachel dropped into a crouch, one hand gripping their purses against her chest while the other frantically felt around for the blanket pooled at her feet.

“Nice tat, Berry.”

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she froze.

In unison, she and Quinn both cried out.

“What?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise... and more than one I should think. For those already eager for the next chapter, relax. I already have it bubbling away in my brain and Fate willing (and gravity permitting) will have time to type it out later today which means it should be up sometime tomorrow or Saturday at the latest.
> 
> P.S. Oops, forgot I had a 'Ring' theme going for the chapter titles. Tempted as I am to leave it as it is, I do hate breaking a pattern so new title accepted (and for anyone wondering, the original non-bell related title was "I See London Bridges Falling Down").
> 
> Revised: 03 06 2016 - Minor editorial changes


	7. Ring Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tattoo or not tattoo, that is the question.
> 
> Well one of them anyway. 
> 
> Why does Santana have to be such a bitch?
> 
> That's another. But not, as it turns out, the one that Quinn has trouble answering.

Quinn's arm shot out from behind the curtain to grab her waiting towel without waiting for Santana to answer while Rachel twisted her head as far around as she could in an attempt to search her back, one hand reached behind herself in desperate exploration.

"Quinn?"

"Shh, it's okay." Quinn said softly, hoping to dull the edge of panic in Rachel's voice before it grew any sharper in the few seconds it took to wrap the towel around herself before she stepped out of the shower and crouched down next to Rachel. "Everything's gonna be fine." Quinn gently rubbed a hand up and down Rachel's arm as the other softly but firmly shooed Rachel's hands out of the so that she could get a clear look at the brunette's back. 

Not even her headache could stop the small grin that snuck across Santana's lips as she watched the pair. As far as she was concerned the question of what happened last night was pretty much moot; all that needed to happen was for these two to accept how they felt about each other and get on with their lives.

Like she should have. That was a thought that did what the throbbing behind her eyes couldn't and her grin dimmed but it wasn't enough to make her turn away. She wanted to see if this little scene between her oblivious friends would have a happier ending than she'd had.

"Is it-"

"Relax." Quinn dropped the hand from Rachel's arm to take her hand instead and gave it a squeeze as she pulled back to catch Rachel's eye. "Stand up."

"But-"

"Trust me?"

Rachel rolled her bottom lip over her teeth and caught it in a nervous bite as she held Quinn's gaze for several seconds before nodding. With Quinn still holding her hand, and Quinn's other hand resting under her elbow, Rachel stood.

"That's my girl." Quinn smiled as she gently guided Rachel over to the sink.

Rachel ignored her reflection as she peered over her shoulder again in time to see Quinn lick her thumb.

"Wha-" her eyes went wide and her breath locked in her lungs as she felt that same thumb press against the small of her back in small, slow back and forth strokes. Her hands seized the sides of the sink, gripping the chipped porcelain tight as she fought back the tremble that threatened to climb her spine.

Just as soon as Quinn's touch had come, it stopped and she held up her thumb for Rachel to inspect. A dark smudge coloured the otherwise clean skin.

"It's not real." Quinn explained. "Probably just marker."

"Marker." Rachel repeated, then looked away, suddenly aware of the goosebumps that covered her skin despite the steam that still filled he room.

"Aren't you going ask what it is?" Santana asked, unable to remain silent as she felt the moment start to slip away only to have her intrusion cause Quinn and Rachel to both take a step away from the other.

Quinn fired a glare at her former co-captain. "It doesn't matter." She said through a tensed jaw. "It'll come off in the shower." She ushered Santana back into the other room without giving her a chance to response with only a quick glance back at Rachel. "Get cleaned up, I'll bring your dress in when you're done." Quinn said, then closed the door behind her.

Rachel pulled her bottom lip between her teeth again and nibbled on it. Several moments passed with her still staring at the door before she released her lip and turned back to the mirror, her nudity barely registering.

Drawn on. At least that explained why she hadn't noticed it before now. A real tattoo surely would have hurt, even with how much she must have had to drink last night. Of course it did raise the question of who had drawn it on her... And what they'd drawn.

She should trust Quinn. She did trust Quinn.

But... 

She cast another glance towards the door.

One little peek wouldn't hurt. It didn't mean she didn't trust Quinn, it was just to satisfy her own curiosity and tempering her curiosity had been one talent she'd never fully mastered. Besides, she was going to wash it off in a minute anyway so her knowing or not knowing wasn't going to make a difference in the grand scheme of things. And it might even be a clue about what had happened last night. She practically owed it to Quinn to look.

Right?

With both lips curled over her teeth, Rachel turned her back to the mirror and looked over her shoulder.

"...Oh"

* * *

"You know she's going to look, right?" Santana sat on the end of the bed before tossing Quinn's dress at her, hanger and thin plastic bag included

"Watch it." Quinn demanded as she caught her clothes though whether she was talking about Santana's comment or her hurling bits of hooked metal at Quinn wasn't clear. Either way, she sat on the bed as far front Santana as she could get without returning to the chair she'd slept in.

At least for part of the night.

Her stole a peak at the bathroom from the corner of her eye, her ink stained thumb making small, slow back and forth strokes against the back of her other hand.

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

Santana leaned back to rest on her elbows, her head continuing back until she had an upside down Quinn in her view. "Why? Do you?"

"Just answer the question." Quinn huffed as she started to pull her dress off the hanger. "Rachel's freaking out about this. If you know something, tell me."

"She looked pretty calm to me." Santana replied as she slumped back onto the mattress — her previous position only adding to her headache as the blood pooled in her brain — and closed her eyes as she folded her hands across her stomach. " 'Course that may have had something to do with who was holding onto her..." She rolled her head to he side and opened one eye in time to see Quinn go still in the middle of removing her towel.

"It's called being a friend." Quinn said as she slipped back into motion. "I get why you might be confused." 

"Right, because we would have had that little heart to heart earlier if I wasn't your friend."

"Shut up."

Santana turned her head to the other side to hide the smile that spread across her face. "Good answer, Q. How can I fight against logic like that."

The empty plastic bag — balled up and minus the hanger — hit the back of her head a moment before Quinn kicked Santana's foot. "Zip me up."

"Or else what?" San grumbled even as she pushed herself up to do as requested. She gripped the zipper, paused, then pulled it up. "You wonder if you had one too before you scrubbed up? You two seem like the matched set type."

Quinn resisted the urge to reach behind and touch the small of her back, the design that had been sketched across Rachel's olive skin superimposed over her own paler flesh in her mind's eye. She looked over her shoulder. "Are you going to tell me what you know or not?"

"If I remembered anything, Q, I would. But I don't remember anything that would explain what happened between you and Berry."

Quinn turned around, arms crossed over her chest. "That's not what I asked."

"No, but it's what you wanted to know."

"Do you always have to be a bitch or is it just a hobby you really enjoy?"

"Do you always have to insult me or is it just something you do when you're freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out."

"And I'm not being a bitch."

The two held a silent standoff until Santana had to close her eyes. "Unlike this damn headache."

"Aspirin?"

"In Rachel's purse."

Both women turned towards the bathroom at the same time. Rachel's purse — along with their own — was still in the bathroom; forgotten in the fluster over the tattoo-that-wasn't.

"Shit!"

Quinn shook her head. "I'll get it."

Santana slumped back onto the bed without comment, discretion the better part of valour until she had pills in hand

Quinn had her hand on the doorknob before she looked back in time to see Santana pull a pillow over the top half of her head.

"You really don't remember anything?"

Without looking up, Santana answered, "If I say no, do I still gets my meds."

"Only if it's the truth."

"Then no."

Quinn turned her wrist.

"Q?"

"Yeah."

Santana hesitated for a moment, caught between her sense of self preservation and the selfless part of her that wanted to see her friends happy. "Do you think you had the same thing on your back?"

This time Quinn did reach behind her back, the artful black lines of the outlined heart and the delicate calligraphy contained within it burned into her memory.

_Q+R_

"Does it matter if I say no?"

"Only if it's the truth."

Santana pulled the pillow away after several seconds of silence to find she was the only one still in the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look. It's another chapter. Just for you. No, not you. You over there behind that guy in the green shirt. This ones for you but remember what your mother taught you; it's always nice to share. 
> 
> Anyway, it may be a day or two before the next update - I've had a bit of a breakthrough on "A Touch Of Starlight" so that has (temporarily) seized my attention for the moment. Hopefully I'll get the next chapter of that polished off later tonight and my muse(s) will allow me back here sooner than later but if not, rest assure, I don't intend to leave you all hanging for too long (fingers crossed, knock on wood).
> 
> Revised: 04 06 2016 (4th June - Minor editorial changes


	8. Two Ring Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first real memory of last night comes back for both Rachel and Quinn but is everything as it seems or have they just discovered that the mystery is even more complicated than even they imagined?

"Quinn."

"Shit. Sorry." Quinn turned her back to the still naked Rachel standing in the middle of the floor while Rachel spun around behind her unseen. "I thought you'd be in the shower by now. San-"

"The aspirin!"

"Yeah... Sorry."

"No, it's my fault. I got distracted and-"

"You had a right to be distracted. One of us should have remembered to grab the purses."

"And so could I. Especially after you proved my so-called tattoo was anything but. That was the reason I was in the bathroom in the first place.

Quinn felt her cheeks heat up. Her fingers closed around her thumb to stop it from tingling with the phantom memory of touching Rachel or the view that went with it.

"Yeah, well... How about we blame Santana and call it even."

Rachel's laugh pulled at Quinn's mouth. "I suppose that's only fair. It is her headache after all."

"San's fault it is then." Quinn flashed a grin at the wall, then gave her head a shake. "I guess I'll just grab the purses and give you some privacy."

"Wait?"

Quinn's head started to swivel around when she felt Rachel's hand close around her wrist but she stopped herself when the corner of her eye caught the first sliver of Rachel's reflection in the mirror.

"I... I just wanted to say that whatever happened last night... I'm glad it happened with you." Rachel pulled her hand away. "Not that I mean I'm happy that you're involved. It's just that of everyone I could have woken up with under these circumstances, you're the one I... That I trust the most."

"... Thanks." Quinn swallowed away the small but growing lump from her throat. "Same to you."

"Thank you."

Rachel's fingers brushed against Quinn's.

"Quinn! Your ring!"

"What about it?" Quinn pulled her hand away from the other woman's touch to look at her fingers. "I took it off before I got in the shower. Must have forgot to put it back on with everything that happened.

"We have to find it."

It was the almost frantic urgency in Rachel's voice that did it. Quinn turned around without thinking to find Rachel bent over as she scoured the floor with her eyes. She turned back around, a stab of guilt over how long it took for her to do so pushed down and locked away to be dealt with later — when Quinn could get the image she'd just seen out of her head.

"Rach, can you put on a towel or something?"

An "Eep." broke the few seconds of silence that followed Quinn's request. As guilty as she felt, the sound still brought a smile to her face that she was struggling to remove until a bashful, "Sorry." wiped it away; Rachel was one of the most confidant people she'd ever met and to hear her apologize for having her privacy invaded left a bitter taste in Quinn's mouth. 

"Don't be."

Quinn thought the whisper of terrycloth and bare feet shuffling against tile was the only response she was going to get until Rachel's, "All done. Sorry." filled her ears. She turned round and grabbed Rachel's hand with both of hers. "Stop. I'm the one who should be saying sorry."

"But I'm the one wh-"

"Stop." It wasn't exactly a demand. It wasn't exactly a request. It was the way Quinn squeezed her hand that finally stilled Rachel's tongue. It was the from Rachel that put a matching one on Quinn's face.

"We don't need to look for the ring."

Rachel's smile snapped off. "But it could be a clue. At the very least we'll need it if we're going to return it; assuming we can find the receipt as well-"

"Don't interrupt." Quinn gave Rachel's hand another squeeze. "We don't have to look because I know where it is."

"...Ah. That would make things easier."

"Yeah." Quinn agreed, a quick scan of the room revealing all it took to spot the forgotten towel wrapped bundle on the floor near the sink. Her thumb drew small circles against the back of Rachel's hand as she bent down and flicked the towel out of the way, standing back up a moment later with her purse in hand. "See." She put the bag in the sink, pinning it against the porcelain with the heel of her hand as her fingers struggled with the zipper — It never crossed her mind to let go of Rachel with her other. "Got'cha." She cheered as she shoved her hand into the purse. "I put... it... in... Hah!" She had to give her hand a shake to dislodge the purse but the ring came with her, hooked on her index finger. "See." Quinn held out her hand as she locked eyes with Rachel. "Safe and sound."

Rachel reached out for the ring only to hesitate. Her eyes flickered between the band of gold and Quinn before she reach out again and pluck the ring off Quinn's finger. "Not yet." Rachel shifted her hold on Quinn's hand and held it in place so that she could hold it slip the ring back into place on the right finger.

Both women stared at the ring.

Both women looked up at the other.

"Did you?"

"Yeah... Did you?

"...Yes."

* * *

"Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, 'til death do you part?"

Quinn's head dipped in an exaggerated nod that nearly cost her her balance and sent her careening into Santana.

"Quinn!" Rachel made a mad grab to catch the blonde and nearly unbalanced herself in the process before dissolving into giggles as Quinn, with a shove from Santana, righted herself and thrust her arm over her head as she cried out, "I'm good."

"You're gorgeous!"

"So are you." Quinn placed her hands on Rachel's cheeks and squished her soon-to-be wife's face, making Rachel's giggle even harder than before. "You are my beautiful, talented, amazing and occasionally annoying little star." She leaned in to press her mouth against Rachel's in a very eager kiss but was brought up short by the sound of a cleared throat.

"Save it for the honeymoon already, my feet are killin' me."

"Sorry San. Both of the other women said in unison which only made Rachel break in giggles once more.

Santana rolled her eyes, then gave Quinn an impatient poke in the side.

"Hey!"

"Hey indeed! Don't you go hurting my wife."

"She's not your wife yet."

"Ladies, please." Their officiant said in an attempt to head off any argument and get the proceedings back under way.

"Oooh, right." Quinn's head gave a slow nod as she rubbed at her side. "Where were we?"

"Do you-"

"Right, right, right." Quinn waved the speaker into silence before taking both of Rachel's hands in her own. "Yeah, I do."

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel's lifted their joined hands to her cheek to wipe away a stray, happy tear with her wrist. A wrist Quinn was quick to bring to her lips to kiss, earning another sappy "Quinn" from her bride-to-be.

"And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, 'till death do you part?"

"Yes. Yes. And yes."

"You may now exchange the rings."

Both women turned expectantly -- and in the case of Rachel, impatiently -- to their shared bridesmaid.

"What?"

"The rings." Quinn nodded towards her purse that hung loosely by its strap from Santana's hand.

"Sooner would be better." Rachel added.

"Don't get your panties in a twist." Santana reached into Quinn's bag, then looked up and gave Rachel a salacious wriggle of her eyebrows. "Those of you still wearing them anyway."

"Santana." Rachel hissed.

"Relax, B-erry. Everybody already knows you're going commando."

"Ix-nay on the Omando, C-ay" Rachel hissed under her breath as she gave their minister a quick glance before turning a glare on Santana.

A glare Santana ignored as she held out the rings.

Quinn grabbed them quickly, then turned both herself and Rachel around to face the other way.

"Ready?

"Yes." / "Yep." 

" Okay. Repeat after me; 'with this ring, I thee wed'."

Quinn turned back to Rachel. "With this ring, I thee wed." With great care she slid one of the rings onto Rachel's finger before she pressed the other into the brunette's palm.

Several seconds passed before Quinn cleared her throat. "Um, Rach?"

Rachel looked up from her hand. "Sorry."

"S'okay. I think it's cute."

"And I think you're cute."

"Kill me now." Santana muttered, earning her a dark look from the other three. Well, two dark looks and one of disappointment.

Rachel returned her focus to their minister a gave a not before turning back to Quinn.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Rachel let out a little coo as she slipped the ring onto Quinn's hand. A mischievous grin replacing her gleeful smile as she gave the blonde an exaggerated wink. "And bed."

Quinn burst out laughing, then wrapped her arms around Rachel and tried to spin the both of them around only to end up on the floor, a cursing Santana trying to crawl out from beneath them.

"You guys." The lone still standing member of their party complained.

* * *

With the sound of the still running shower in the background, Rachel brushed her thumb against the small diamond resting on the Quinn's finger as they stared into each others eyes. With one voice, they spoke.

"Brittany!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duhn Duhn Duh!
> 
> The plot thickens, folks. Turns out our little trio is a quartet. I know some of you are asking 'what the hell? If Brit was with them why haven't any of them wondered where she is yet.'
> 
> 'That is a very good question', says I. And I think I have an equally good answer but you'll have to decide once you find out what it is. Until then feel free to while away the wait by taking your best guess. Whoever gets closest will get double extra bonus points... once the appropriate chapter gets posted (which may not be for a few yet. still working out scene order).
> 
> Revised: 04 06 2016 (4th June) - Moderate editorial changes (negligible impact on plot)


	9. A Friendship Ring is a Terrible Thing to Waste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Quinn aren't the only one having flashbacks. But this one may not end well for a certain young future Broadway star.

"Brittany!"

A groan that Rachel though sounded suspiciously like 'bitches' to her ears narrowly beat out the pillow that met Quinn's face.

"Seriously?"

"I could ask you two the same thing." Santana groused as she pushed herself up. "In fact, I will." She gestured towards their empty hands "Seriously? What the hell? Neither of you two could remember to bring the damn aspirin with you before you shouted my head into a million pieces." She turned her focus to Quinn. "Was Berry naked? Is that what distracted you."

"Santana!" Rachel scolded, a mildly reproachful "Quinn." following the pillow that bounced off of Santana's face a moment later. Before the ballistic exchange could escalate any further, Rachel shooed Quinn back into the washroom to fetch the once again overlooked aspirin, then moved towards the bed. "Santana, we remembered something."

"Not my aspirin."

Rachel sucked in a breath and held it. She could understand Santana's frustration but there were more important matters to worry about that her headache. Especially since she — and she was sure Quinn as well — were both suffering under hangovers of their own even if theirs didn't appear to be as bad. Finding out you may have gotten drunk married to your best friend slash former enemy slash another woman — not that there was anything wrong with that — had a way of focusing even the most aching mind. A tap on her shoulder turned her head.

"Thank you Quinn." Rachel took the bottle from Quinn's hand then struggled with the lid for several seconds before Quinn took the bottle back. With an almost insulting ease, Quinn popped the top off before she took hold of Rachel's hand and tilted three small, round pills onto her upturned palm.

"Thank you." A grin flickered on Rachel's lips as she looked up at Quinn, neither of them making any attempt to pull away from the other.

"Unbelievable." Santana growled as she snatched the pills from Rachel's hand and tossed them into her mouth. "San, wait-" Rachel started to warn before the grimace that appeared on Santana's face confirmed it was too late.

"Water!"

Rachel's face winced in sympathy as she could practically taste the sharp bitterness of the pills that had to be coating Santana's tongue.

"I'll get it." Quinn was already heading back into the bathroom as she spoke but not before she gave Rachel's hand a final squeeze.

Rachel turned back to Santana to find her trying to scrap her tongue clean against her teeth. Maybe she'd finally be able to get a word in edgewise. "So as I was saying, Quinn and I both remembered something from last night; Brittany was there. In fact, she was the on-"

"How in the hell would she be there? She's still off working for that Morris chick."

Or maybe not. Rachel sucked in another short breath. Hangover or no, she was starting to get upset with the constant interruptions.

"I-"

"Wait."

* * *

"Whoever that is, tell them to get lost. I wants to get my party on now."

Rachel laughed as she headed towards the front door of her apartment. "If you keep talking like that, Santana, the only thing you'll be 'getting on' tonight is a lecture on proper grammar."

A chorus of boos behind her only widened Rachel's smile as she turned the doorknob in her hand. "That goes double for you, Quinn."

"What did I do?"

"You kno- Brittany?"

The athletic blonde standing in the hallway brought a hand up to shoulder height and flapped her fingers in greeting.

"Hey Rach. Surprise!"

"Uhm..." Rachel lifted her hand to match Brittany's wave. "Indeed." She gave her head a quick shack. "I mean hello."

"B?"

Both Brittany and Rachel turned toward the voice, Brittany poking her head inside for a better view.

"Hey San."

Rachel looked between the former couple as surreptitiously as possible while trying to come up with an excuse to get out from between them but Santana didn't give her long before she turned around and, without a word to either of them, headed into the kitchen.

"She's, umm..."

"It's okay, Rach." Brittany offered warmly despite her ex girlfriend's chilly reception. "Can I?"

"Oh, right. Where are my manners." Rachel cast a quick glance over her shoulder — just in time to see Quinn heading for the kitchen — then turned back to her unexpected guest and stepped aside to give Brittany room. "Sorry. Please come in."

"S'cool." Brittany looked around the apartment as she stepped inside. It was her first visit to Rachel, Kurt, and Santana's shared loft though she'd seen plenty of pictures on both Rachel and Kurt's various social media pages since they'd moved in. "Nice place. Looks bigger on the inside.

"Lighting." Rachel explained as she shot another quick glance towards the kitchen before she led Brittany into the common room. "So what brings you by?"

* * *

"Hey, San."

She was really here. Santana stared at the familiar face for what felt like an eternity before she had to turn away. It was that or throw herself into Britt's arms and she knew the latter wasn't an option. Not now. Not anymore.

Besides, she really needed a drink.

She walked into the kitchen, their kitchen and grabbed the bottle of vodka out of the freezer.

The sound of her roomie talking to the love of her life filtered in through the empty archway. Rachel's voice carried even more than she imagined and no mater what the petite singer wanted to think, their place wasn't that large to begin with. And it was their place, even if that had never been the plan; what was supposed to be a temporary crash on Kurt and Rachel's second hand couch until Santana could find a place of her own had gone on long enough that all three of them got used to it being her home as much as theirs.

And now Brittany was here. In their apartment.

A flick of her wrist and the cap spun off onto the counter. She eyed the glasses in the open cupboard, then brought the bottle to her lips.

"You want to talk about it?"

Santana lowered the bottle slightly. "No." The bottle rose again.

"Okay." Quinn's voice continued softly as the rest of her came into view. She leaned against the edge of the counter and locked eyes with Santana. "You wanna share?"

Santana held the gaze for a moment before replying. "No." Despite her answer, she held out the bottle.

Quinn took it by the neck and looked down at the bottle as she swirled the clear, semi-syrupy liquid around. "You know this isn't going to help, right?"

"You gonna drink or not, Fabray?"

Quinn brought the bottle to her mouth and took a quick sip, then held the bottle out.

Santana snatched the bottle back, brought it to her lips, then lowered it along with her head, her free hand picking at the label. "Why is she here?"

"I could guess... Or we could go in there and ask."

Santana pressed the bottle against her lips again then dropped it on the counter with an audible clunk, her hand still gripping the neck, still without talking a sip. "I- I can't. She- Q, I..."

"I know." Quinn nodded as she stepped a little closer, not enough to crowd her friend but close enough that it would only take a gesture from Santana for her to wrap her up in a hug.

Their breakup — their first breakup — hadn't been easy for Santana. Quinn could still recall the drunken phone call she'd gotten from Santana the night it happened; though technically, at three am, it had been the morning after. It had taken a while to make out what had happened but Quinn had pieced together San's slurred explanation delivered between sobs and bouts of rambling in Spanish. Brittany had been held back a year to no one's surprise but Santana's — she'd always seen the best in Brittany — and the two had tried to make their relationship work long distance but less than a month into her Senior year, Brittany had called it off, saying she didn't want Santana to have to put her life on hold for her.

A few weeks later, a very worried Rachel had called Quinn to tell her that Santana was crashing at the loft she shared with Kurt. That was the first weekend Quinn made use of her rail pass, the twin to the one she'd given Rachel before Graduation.

And then there had been the weekend when Rachel had asked Quinn to come and 'keep Santana company' while she and Kurt both went back to Lima to help Mr Schuester out with the next generation of New Directions... but they didn't talk about that weekend. Ever.

It was a few months after that that Santana and Brittany saw each other again at Mister Schue's wedding to Miss Pillsbury. The next morning, a beaming Santana and Brittany, arm in arm, announced they were back together. Santana started making trips back to Lima every chance she could get since Brittany was too busy with school to make the trip to NYC where Santana was now officially living with Kurt and Rachel, not unlike Quinn who even with her Yale course load, found it easier to come to visit Rachel than wait for Rachel to find time in her intensive NYADA schedule to visit her.

Not that Rachel didn't make it down a few times, usually when Santana was off visiting Britt.

And it worked. They worked. Right up until Britt graduated. Right up until she got the offer to dance back-up for some pop star on her world tour. Something she excitedly told Santana about the same night that Santana was going to propose.

The ring never made it out of Santana's pocket.

And that was it. Santana had gotten a few acting gigs around town, nothing ground breaking but she was starting to get noticed, something she couldn't put on hold to tour around the world with Brittany for a year and a half and not enough to even think about asking Britt to pass up on what could be her big break. Even if that was something Santana would think of doing, which it wasn't.

So they broke up. Again.

And it had killed Santana to do it. So much so that she was unbearable to her roommates for over a month — the only time Rachel had visited Quinn four weeks straight.

Quinn still felt a little guilty about that, both because she hadn't been there for Santana — even if San had made it clear she didn't want to deal with anyone — and because those had been four of the best weekends of her life.

"San?"

"Just... gimmie a minute." 

"Okay."

* * *

"So what brings you by?"

Brittany dropped onto the couch and gave a few experimental bounces on the cushion before turning to Rachel. "Our flight got cancelled cause of some electric thing-y and the next one doesn't leave till tomorrow. Figured while I was in town I should drop by and say hi." She flashed Rachel an extra wide grin. "Hi."

Rachel let out a short, soft laugh then glanced guiltily towards the kitchen before turning back to Britt. "Hi." She added a small wave of her hand from where it sat on her lap to the greeting. "How's the tour going?"

"Good. It's fun. A lot more work than glee club and not as much singing but I like it." Britt leaned back into the couch. "I kinda miss glee club sometimes."

"Me too." Rachel said more wistfully than she'd expected.

"Yeah. But how about you, how's school going?"

Rachel pressed her shoulders back as she straightened in her spot on the couch. "Good. Thank you for asking. I'm making excellent progress and most of my teacher's have come to see my natural talent for the gift to the performing arts that it is."

This time it was Brittany's turn to laugh. "Same old Rachel."

"Mostly."

"And Quinn?" 

"The same. She's taken Yale by storm but I'm sure she'll want to tell you all about it herself."

Britt nodded, her hands folded together on her lap. "And San."'

Rachel pulled her lips over her teeth as she resisted the urge to fire another glance towards the kitchen. "I really don't think I should-"

"S'cool. I get it." Britt gave another slow nod of her head. "But... is she... happy?"

"She's Santana. As long as she's got someone to boss around she's content."

"So she's seeing someone?"

"I..."

"Right, sorry. Forget I asked."

"No."

"...Okay, don't."

"No, I mean... no she's not seeing anyone."

Brittany's head made another slow dip and rise before she looked over at Rachel. "You look nice." She said, taking in Rachel's dress for the first time. "You going out tonight?"

"Yes." Rachel half turned her head towards the kitchen before she stopped herself. "We all were, actually. Sort of a girls night out."

"Oh. Sorry. Should I-"

"No. Please stay. In fact, you should come out with us. You're only in town for the night and it'll give us a chance to get caught up." The words were out of Rachel's mouth before she could stop herself. She was so going to have to go see Quinn next weekend... Maybe even the whole week even if it meant skipping her classes because there was no doubt in Rachel's mind that Santana would kill her for this.

"You sure?"

 _No._ "Yes."

"Cool. You got a bathroom I can get changed in?"

"Yes, of course. Right over there."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Rachel watched Brittany grab her carry-on from where she set it by the end of the couch and head off into the bathroom, then jumped to her feet and raced over to the kitchen.

"Just... gimmie a minute."

"Okay."

Rachel cleared her throat as she poked her head into the room only far enough to lock eyes with the other two. "Umm, about that..."

* * *

Santana's eye refocused on Rachel, still wrapped in her towel, then narrowed.

"You!"

"What did I do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Published: 02 06 2016 (2nd, June)**
> 
>  
> 
> Exposition heavy, sorry. But it clears the ground for some actual missing night events so that's good, right? 
> 
> **Revised: 05 06 2016 (5th June)** \- Minor editorial changes
> 
> (As much as I love the line _A Saharan "Seriously?"_..., it had to go... and there were a few other tweaks as well.)
> 
>  **Revised: 11 07 2016( 11th, July)** \- Moderate editorial changes
> 
> Added a mention (veiled) of Quinn 'experimenting' with Santana to better establish this event for later chapters (13/14).


	10. Ring-A-*Ding*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Rachel's role in Brittany's involvement in last night's still (mostly) forgotten events come to light, it's up to Quinn to smooth things over. At least enough for them to get back to solving the rest of the mysteries still hanging over their head, starting with hard evidence.
> 
> Also know as whatever is in their purses.
> 
> Now if they can only be honest with each other about what they find.

The glass of water clattered against the floor the second Quinn heard Rachel cry out and she was standing between the two dark haired woman before the plastic cup rolled to a stop against the tub. She glared into Santana's eye, her jaw as tight as the grip on the former cheerleader as she shot a look over her shoulder at Rachel. "You should get dressed."

Rachel nodded, grabbing the bag with her dress with both hands as she darted back into the bathroom. The sound of the lock clicked home behind her.

Only then did Quinn turn back to Santana.

"Don't even start with me, Q." San snapped before word one could pass the blonde's parted lips. She twisted out of Quinn's grip and crossed her arms over her chest, a dagger-ed scowl aimed at the bathroom before she turned her back to it. "This is all her fault."

"I don't care who's fault it is! The next time you go after Rachel like that-"

"You'll what? You couldn't take me in high school, you sure as hell can't take me now."

"Wanna put that to the test?

Santana gave the washroom another glance then turned back to Quinn before finally rolling her eyes. "Please, and spend the rest of the night listening to your girlfriend curse me out for messing up your face." Her eyed dropped to Quinn's. "Or should I say, your wife."

Quinn snatched her hand behind her back, not sure herself if it was to hide her ring or stop herself from slapping some sense through Santana's thick skull. If she hadn't gotten between them as quickly as she had, if Santana had hurt Rachel... there wouldn't even be a question. "Maybe you should try shutting up."

"Fuck you, Q. All I did was yell at her and she deserved it after the shit she pulled last night."

"We don't know what any of us pulled last night."

"I do!

The two of them glowered at each other, neither noticing the faint click of the bathroom door opening a crack.

"You do?"

"Yeah." Santana jerked her head to the side. "Some of it anyway."

Quinn waited, her lingering anger tempered slightly by the sight of Santana scratching at her arm as she stared at the floor. "And?" She asked softly.

"She... dragged Brittany into this."

"She did?" Quinn's forehead wrinkled as a memory danced on the edge of her perception before it faded back into the fog that still covered her memories of last night.

"Damn right she did!"

"Would saying 'I'm sorry' help?"

Quinn turned to see Rachel peaking out from behind the half open bathroom door.

"No."

"San!" Quinn turned her head to find Santana still staring at the floor. "It's okay, Rach, San's got it out of her system."

"Like hell I have." Santana growled as she brought her eyes up long enough to see the guilt on Rachel's face. "Whatever." She grumbled. "Just don't expect me to be happy about it."

"Ignore her." Quinn beckoned Rachel over, a little hurt then Rachel headed towards Santana instead.

"Here." Rachel held out a half filled glass. "I washed the cup as best I could, twice, so I'm reasonably sure it's safe to drink from but I understand if you'd rather not drink from it in which case I will gladly buy you a bottle of water or beverage of your choice at the soonest possible chance."

A silent pause preceded a mumbled "Whatever." as she took the cup from Rachel.

Rachel risked a small smile before she retreated to Quinn's side. "I know I said I was sorry, or offered to anyway, and I am but in the spirit of being completely honest so that we can move past this and focus on the immediate issue of what ha- what else happened to us last night I feel compelled to add that I don't remember what it is that I did that upset you so much... other than that it has something to do with Brittany."

Santana looked down into her cup, then sighed. "Forget it. Lets just get this shit figured out."

If only it were that easy. Quinn could see Rachel drawing the sort of breath only someone with her lung capacity could and knew that Rachel was about to launch into another attempt to apologize for whatever indiscretion San blamed her for. Quin also knew that it was better if that didn't happen so she pressed a finger across Rachel's lips and gave the other woman a short shake of her head. 

Rachel's look of indignation at being silenced shifted to one of curiosity as she watched Quinn's brow furrow. "Qwnn?"

Quinn gave another shake of her head and pulled her finger away. "Nothing. Uh, so how much did you tell Santana before... things got off track?"

"As far as Brittany being with us." Rachel replied, turning her still curious eyes from Quinn only long enough to check Santana's reaction.

"But not the rest."

"No."

"How about one of you tell me before this little Laurel and Hardy act gets any older than it already is." Santana dropped onto the end of the bed, then drained her cup dry before tossing it onto the mattress behind her.

"She performed the ceremony."

"She what?"

"She married us." Quinn translated, then looked down at her 'wedding' ring and added, "So these are pretty much just for show" as she slowly turned the gold band back and forth between the fingertips of her other hand.

"It would seem that way." Rachel added, her left hand clasped tight against her hip.

"Lucky you." Santana quipped.

"Yeah." Rachel and Quinn both sighed, only one of the three noting that neither of the pair sounded relieved.

"But that still leaves the rest of the night a mystery, not to mention where Brittany is." Rachel rallied as she turned back to the bathroom to grab their purses. "So I suggest we search for any clues that might help us, starting with whatever is in these. Quinn. Santana." She said, handing them their own in turn before opening her own.

"You know this is a waste of time, right." Santana said as she leaned back, half turned on her side and propped up on one elbow, and upended her purse onto the bed. "I was clearly drinking to forget so I doubt I kept any keepsakes and we already solved how you two ended up all fake hitched."

"But not how we ended up here — wherever here is — or where Brittany is or where I got my almost tattoo or who gave it to me or -"

"How you and Q wound up all naked. Yeah yeah, I get it already." 

Both Quinn — who had taken a seat on the edge of the bed — and Rachel — who had taken the lone seat — redoubled their search efforts.

The trio picked through their findings for several minutes before Quinn looked up. "Anything?"

"Receipts from several clubs I don't recognize." Rachel held up several flimsy strips of paper to show them.

"Nothing else?"

Rachel looked into her purse then shook her head as she sealed it shut. "No, nothing. You?"

“A matchbook from some place called 'Ozdust' “Quinn held up the item in question.

“Quinn!”

“What?” She looked over at a visibly upset Rachel.

“Are you smoking again.”

“No.” Quinn said, a hair more defensively than she'd intended.

“Good.” Rachel relaxed. “As alluring as it was during your bad girl phase, it's terrible for your health.”

Santana, stuffing her belongings back into her purse, rolled her eyes.

Quinn shook her head as she turned back to her purse, the smile that was trying to lift the corners of her mouth fading as she looked up again. “Not that I remember anyway.”

“Quinn.”

“Can you two get all BAE about Q's self destructive streak when I'm not here to watch it. I still have a headache, I don't want nausea on top of that.”

"Ignore her." Quinn said without looking up. A quite "I'll try." returned from Rachel. "Yeah, nothing here that shouldn't be but the matches. The rest of it's just the usual, my IDs, my keys, my phone- Wait, my money's gone.” 

“Oh, that reminds me.”

“You're holding the purse strings in this relationship?” Santana asked, looking over at Quinn as she added “Wuh-pshh.”

“Shut it.” Quinn said more out of form than any hope it would work.

“No. Not that.” Rachel approached the bed. “Though given her missing money, I suspect Quinn paid for our rings and I'll have to repay her for my portion if we can't find the receipt.”

“You don't have to-”

“Yes, Quinn, I do. It's only fair. But that's something we can discuss later. As I was saying, I just remembered my phone. I left it on the bed after talking to Kurt.”

“Surprised he hasn't called back.” Santana said as she lifted herself off the mattress enough to make sure the phone wasn't near her.

“I, uhm... may have turned it off.” Rachel ducked her face behind her hair as she searched through the tangled sheets before lowering herself to her knees to check under the bed. “Found it.” Rachel's face came into view. From her vantage point, Santana saw her put the cell into her purse without turning it back on.

“And you? Anything?”

Santana looked down at the small pile she'd separated from the rest of the contents of her purse; a few receipts — none for a ring let alone two — a pair of novelty sunglasses with plastic bunny ears that could have been picked up just about anywhere ugly-ass sunglasses could be found, and a napkin marked in several places with different shades of blotted lipstick. “Nope.” She picked up the napkin to toss it into the trash and stopped half way through rolling towards the waste basket when she felt a small weight drop onto her chest.

“Huh?”

Rachel watched the other woman reach down to pick up a small black square. “What's that.”

San turned the bit of plastic over in her fingers. “Looks like a memory card.”

“From what?” Quinn asked. They all had iPhones so it wasn't from that and none of them had a camera with them so it couldn't be from that either.

“Do I look like I know? I didn't even know it was in there.”

“How about we go get something to eat.” Rachel got to her feet as she tried to defuse the moment before it could trigger another fight.

Santana closed her fingers around the memory card. “I could eat. But you're paying.”

Rachel nodded, mentally calculating how far she could spread her own limited cash reserves before she'd need to break out her emergency plastic. Normally breakfast wouldn't count as an emergency but in this case, she was willing to make an exception.

Assuming it was still breakfast.

“Does anyone have the time?”

Quinn pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the home button. Then tapped it again. Then pressed the power button before letting out a sigh as she stuck it back into her handbag.

“I'm dead.”

“Poor Berry, widowed before she's twenty five.”

“Santana. Time?” Rachel asked, still hoping to forestall an argument — at least until the aspirin kicked in and had a chance to improve Santana's mood.

“That shit was funny and you both know it.” San pulled her phone from her purse and tapped the home button. Her raised eyebrows drawing both of the other women up a little straighter in concern. “I'm dead too.”

“Did anyone bring a charge cable?”

“I did.” Rachel replied. 

“Of course you did.” Santana dropped her phone back onto the bed.

“Shut it.” Quinn hooked her arm around Rachel's, their hands linking without a second thought. She turned back after Rachel had stepped out into the corridor. “Get up if you want something to eat. And make sure you've got everything, there's no way I'm coming back here without a tetanus shot.”

"Bite me." Santana called after her, her eyes fixed on the door Quinn had left open behind her, and counted to three before she flipped her phone face up and tapped the home button. There, behind the notification that she'd missed seven calls, was a background she hadn't had last night. A photo of her kissing a blonde. _Really_ kissing her.

With tongue and everything.

And it wasn't Brittany.

* * *

“Quinn?”

“Yeah?” When Rachel didn't speak after several seconds, Quinn turned to look at her.

God she was cute when she chewed on her lip like that.

Her head snapped around. Wait, what?

“Can I-” Rachel's hand left Quinn's, sliding up the taller woman's arm in a way that had Quinn silently cursing in her head until it came to rest on her bicep. “Can I ask you something with the promise that I'll never bring it up again and the caveat that you have to be completely honest in your answer?”

Quinn swallowed, the elevator coming into view as the rounded the corner at the end of the hallway outside their room. “Uhh-”

“Sorry.” Rachel shook her head, pulling away from Quinn to hurry forward and press the call button. “Forget I said anything.”

“No. Please, Rach... ask. After the last hour I don't think either of us can be any more embarrassed than we already are.”

Rachel's shoulders dropped slightly.

Quinn cursed herself under her breath. “I mea-”

“Would you marry me? Not now, but... but if you were to marry someone, sober and in complete control of your faculties... would I be the kind of person you'd chose?”

The blonde glanced over her shoulder, half wishing Santana was there to save her from having to answer, half glad she wasn't so that Santana wouldn't have the chance to use this against her.

“I-”

*Ding*

The elevator doors parted and Rachel stepped inside, her back still to Quinn. “I understand.”

“No, you don't. It's not that I don't... or do... I- We... Rachel, you're my best friend and that's not something I ever thought I'd say so...”

“So... maybe?”

Quinn blinked her eyes twice before wiping them with the back of her hand. “Yeah... Maybe.”

The door started to close and Rachel turned to stop it at the same time Quinn leaped forward, the two colliding in the process with Quinn pinning Rachel against the far wall. Rachel started to giggle and it didn't take long for Quinn to join in. Just long enough for Rachel to wrap her arm around Quinn's waist.

“For what it's worth,” Rachel looked up into Quinn's eyes, “I'd maybe marry you too.”

_Kiss her._

They both took a step back, each looking away.

_Great, now I've scared her._

*Ding*

Santana flicked her eyes between both women now standing at opposite sides of the small elevator then looked down at the floor as she stepped inside.

“Neither of you geniuses hit the button?” She asked as she jabbed the one marked 'G'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted: 06 06 2015 (6th June)
> 
> Sorry for the wait. All but the last 400 words or so have been ready for days but I was seriously stumped for how to finish this chapter (and really missed my original notes for the first time since posting the story here) but I finally had that lighting bolt I (and you) was (were) waiting for so... yay. 
> 
> That said, the next update may be a bit in the making as, again, I'm still a little lost without my (stupidly missing) notes so if you're still reading this tale, bear with me just a little bit longer. Once I can figure out a rough path from here on out, it should be relatively smooth sailing (time allowing) 
> 
> Also, this chapter was almost titled "Ring Around The Boozies" but I think the one it has fits a little better. I will probably end up using the original eventually though so keep an eye out for it to show up again.
> 
> Revised: 05 06 2016 (5th June) - Moderate editorial changes (no significant change to plot)  
> "Qwnn" should, according to my experimentation (the things you do as a writer), sound more like "Qwmm" but for reasons that I hope are obvious without being too obvious, I erred towards the former over the latter. Beyond that, the most significant change was to Quinn and Santana's show down while Rachel was in the bathroom getting changed.


	11. Belles And Whistles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somethings turn out not to be as they first seem... and that's a mixed blessing.

*DING*

Santana pushed her way through the collection of people waiting on the other side of the Elevator doors, Quinn and Rachel moved aside to make room as they waited for the rush to stop before stepping off to find Santana standing frozen in the middle of the wide hallway.

“San, what-” Quinn looked down as she felt a tug on her arm. “Rachel?”

“Look.” Rachel pointed ahead of them with her free hand before slipping her other down to take hold of Quinn's as the blonde turned to see what had the other two so spellbound.

“...Wow.”

“So you're two are seeing this too, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Rachel nodded, then leaned in to whisper “I'm not sure my emergency credit card has enough room on it for this.”

Quinn had to agree. The lobby before them was open and spacious, the ceiling a good thirty feet over their heads; polished silver panels that made the space seem even larger held up by Marble columns set into the slabs of smooth, blue slate that looked more like water frozen in place than stone.

“How?” Quinn asked, looked over her shoulder towards the elevators, then turned back.

“How?”

“I don't know but you two must have seriously pissed off the concierge guy last night.” 

“Miss! Miss!”

All three of them turned towards the voice to see a man dressed in an extremely expensive looking suit approaching them.

“Told ya.” Santana said before abandoning the other two.

“Quinn?”

“Relax. I'm sure its nothing.” Quinn gave Rachel's hand a squeeze, silently hoping that she was correct.

"I'm sorry to bother you but a parcel arrived for you this morning and I wanted to let you know before you left."

“A parcel?”

“Yes Miss.”

Quinn and Rachel exchanged a look. “Thank you. I'll be right over.”

“We'll be right over.” Rachel amended, the Hotel employee giving only a nod in return before heading back to the front desk.

“Rachel-”

“It could be a clue, Quinn.”

“And it'll still be a clue if I'm the only one to get it.” Quinn countered, then pointed towards Santana who had wandered over to a discrete rack full of tourist trap flyers. "And while I'm getting it, you can find help San find us a place to eat before she picks some all you can meat buffet just to get back at you for Britt.”

Rachel held her ground for several moments and Quinn was just about to concede when Rachel gave a short nod. “Fine. But you aren't allowed to open it without me.”

“Deal.”

Quinn turned towards the desk, a smile stretching her lips when she heard an indignant Rachel protest, "I'm not picky, I'm vegan. There is a difference."

The desk clerk slid a black leather folio slid across the dark mahogany counter towards Quinn as she reached the front desk and she was just able to make out the _Hotel Babylon_ discretely embedded in the cover in gold leaf before the clerk opened it to reveal a single page contained within. “Please sign here, Miss.” He instructed, indicating the correct spot with the tip of the fountain pen he handed to her a moment later. 

“Sure.” Quinn adjusted her grip on the pen, pretty sure that it cost almost as much Rachel's apartment if the solid weight was anything to go by. “I know this is going to sound a little odd but... can you tell me where I am?”

The clerk's forehead wrinkled briefly before returning to the same placid expression he'd had on a moment earlier. “The Hotel Babylon, Miss.”

“Yeah, no, I got that but where is that, exactly.”

The clerk cleared his throat. “Sixth avenue, Miss.”

“New York?”

His forehead furrowed again and this time he took a quick look around before he replied. 

“Yes Miss.”

So they hadn't left the city. That was good news, right?

“Miss... are you alright?”

“Yeah, sorry. Jet lag.” Quinn glanced down at her signature as she held the pen out for him to take.

_Quinn Fabray-Berry_

“Huh...”

“Miss?”

“What?” Quinn looked up to find the clerk studying her face.

“Are you sure you're feeling all right?”

Quinn looked down at her signature again, then closed the folio and pushed it back across the counter. “Yeah, everything's great. Can I have my package now?”

“Of course. One moment.”

Quinn tapped her fingers against the counter as the clerk turned to retrieve her parcel, her eyes lingering on the folio.

“Your parcel, Miss.”

“Thank you.” Quinn took the plain brown paper wrapped box — slightly larger than a shoebox — in both hands and gave it an experimental shake. “Hey, how did you know this was for me?”

“Your Wife was quite adamant that you be informed of its arrival, Miss.” The clerk looked past Quinn to where Rachel and Santana were arguing over something in Santana's hand. “We tried to call your room earlier but there wasn't an answer.”

“Oh.” Quinn looked back at the clerk and shrugged. “Jet lag.”

“Yes Miss.”

The two continued to look at each other for several seconds before the clerk looked past Quinn again, this time to the couple standing in line behind her. “Will there be anything else, Miss?”

“Uh, yeah. Can I get the bill.”

“You wish to check out, Miss?”

Quinn took in the look of almost affronted confusion on his face. “Uh, Yeah.”

“Was there a problem with your room?” He asked, fingers taping away on an unseen keyboard as he spoke. “Your friend already paid for the full two nights of our theme package.”

“Theme package?”

The clerk gave her a look that made it clear he was wondering just how many 'Jet lags' she'd had the night before but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “Yes Miss, our 'Richer or Poorer' Package...” He glanced down at the screen hidden from view, “Thought I do have it noted here that you decided to start with the 'poorer' room.”

“Wait, what?”

The clerk opened his mouth to reply but before he could Quinn was spun around by a visibly upset Rachel. 

“We're leaving.”

“So you will be checking out, then?”

Quinn turned back to the clerk only to have Rachel yank on her arm again, harder this time. “Now, Quinn!”

“Give me a second here.” Quinn told her, quickly looking around for any sign for their third. “Where's San?”

“Who cares!”

“Okay, what the hell happened between you two?” Quinn asked, startled by the vehemence in Rachel's voice. 

Rachel's eyes narrowed. “Like you don't know.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

“Miss. If you and your friend could take your discussion elsewhere-”

“Never mind. She's taken me far enough.” Rachel snapped, snatched the package out of Quinn's hands, then stalked towards the exit.

“Rach-” Quinn cut herself off, slowly turning back to the clerk. “My what?”

“Miss?”

“If me and my what could take our conversation somewhere else?”

The clerk gave a nervous look around. “Your... friend.”

“Don't you mean my wife?”

“Umm... do I?”

“Look-” Quinn dipped her eyes to the small brass nameplate pinned to his chest. “- Pennyworth, I have had a really, really weird day so far so can you do me a simple favour and just answer my question. Who do you think I'm married to.”

“The woman your friend was walking to.”

“And my friend is?”

“The rather angry young lady that was just here.”

Quinn tapped her knuckles against the counter twice.

“Fuck!”

The clerk watched her run for the front doors, only turning towards the couple still waiting when he was sure Quinn wasn't coming back. “I do apologize,” he offered them a wide grin. “Foreigners. What can you do.”

The couple looked at each other before grabbing the handles of their luggage. “We're German.” The woman said pointedly before they turned to leave.

“... Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published 06 06 2016 (6th June)
> 
> Where to start. I guess happy anniversary is the best place, what with this being a year to the day since the last chapter was posted (so _surprise_ and _sorry_ — not necessarily in that order). 
> 
> For anyone who's been following this story (and thank you for still following it after so long with nothing to show for it) I spent the last few days revising the earlier chapters. Nothing terribly significant but if you want to re-read them (and you might if only to refresh your memory of what's happened so far) congrats, you get a whole new chapter and 10 chapters worth of tweaks. Aren't you lucky? Oh, and if you do chose to re-read them, I'd very much appreciate if you'd let me know if you spot any typos/etc that I missed (or more likely added).
> 
> For those of you that are just reading this for the first time... Yeah, I got nothing. Hope you like it so for and that you'll be willing to stick around until it's finished (given the whole year-without-updates thing)
> 
> And for everyone regardless of when they first started reading this (and those who are waiting on updates for my other stories) I'm hoping to post an update a week from here on out so, fingers crossed, knock on wood, things will be picking up around here sooner rather than later. Oh, I should make it clear that that's an update to **_An_** unfinished story not an Update to **_all_** unfinished stories every week. I'm not sure yet if I'll be rotating the stories so that no one is left hanging or update whichever story my muse is feeling like even if that means updating the same story two (or more) weeks in a row. Either way, that's the plan (as incomplete as it may be).
> 
> On the upside, the delay may have been a good thing. This chapter (which has been sitting around half finished for the last year) actually changed a lot from what I had to what you read and, in my opinion, for the better. And given that several of those changes would have required revising every chapter than may have followed this one, the fact that there are no chapters to re-write is, I think we can all agree, A good thing. 
> 
> Yes? No? Stop prattling on and get back to writing? Okay, sure. Next week will either be another chapter of this or "If You Go Down In The Woods Today" 
> 
> ... Probably.
> 
>  
> 
> _Yes I know it should be a 'Ring' title but given that it's been a year I think a little shakeup is a good thing (also I got confused). That said, if anyone has a 'Ring' title they want to suggest, feel free._


	12. Belle-ieve It Or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets come out as our threesome learns more about the events of the previous evening — including the location of a wayward blonde — and what they learn could change everything they think they know.

“Rachel?” Quinn placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder and Rachel's head snapped around to face her.

“What?”

“Answer the damn question already.” Santana cut in, her empty glass — her third of the night — punctuating her demand with a solid thunk as it hit the table the four of them stood around; the steady, heavy, bass beat coming from the club's dance floor felt through the bottom of their shoes.

“I'm still thinking.” Rachel turned to Santana to find her already hailing down a waitress to request a refill. Thank god she'd thought to bring aspirin with her... though at this rate, Santana would probably need the entire bottle if she didn't want to spend tomorrow with the worst hangover ever. She made a mental not to make sure Santana got some juice, or at least some water, before the called it a night just in case.

“Well stop thinking and answer already.” Santana turned back. “It's not like we're asking you to solve world hunger or fix the Middle East, just pick your favourite pick-up line.”

Rachel opened her mouth to reply only to be silenced by Santana holding up a finger as she turned to order another round for the table from the just arrived Waitress.

Thank god she'd brought her emergency credit card as well. Rachel made a second mental note to save their receipts as well in case she needed to collect any refunds from certain people tomorrow.

“Well?”

“San-”

“It's alright, Quinn.” Rachel placed a hand on Quinn's wrist. “I've gotten quite used to Santana's rough edges over the last few months of living with her.”

“Please.” Santana scoffed, “You know I wax, there's nothing rough on me.”

“Santana!” Quinn scolded, her eyes flicking to Brittany to find the other blonde silently rolling her own half empty glass — her first — between her palms.

“Stop stalling, Berry, and answer already.” Santana — ignoring Quinn — leaned forward. “Or don't you know any 'cause no-ones ever used one on you.”

“I've had people try to pick me up before.” Rachel defended herself, a combination of scowl and pout pulling at her features.

Santana smirked, her eyebrows wriggling suggestively as she leaned in closer to Rachel. “People, huh? So not just guys. Does sweet little Rachel Berry have girls chasing after her too?”

Rachel glanced over at Quinn then down at her own mostly full drink — her second – as she toyed with the bright yellow bendy straw that came with it. “And so what if I do. Is it so difficult to think that there might be a woman out there that finds me attractive?”

Santana leaned back as the drinks arrived, her eyes fixed on Quinn who was busy waving off the waitress from taking her mostly empty glass — her second — as a fresh one was placed beside it.

“I do.”

All three women looked at Brittany.

“What? She's hot.” Britt shrugged. “You remember the way her legs looked in those short skirts she wore back in high-school and that was before she got her new look. Plus she has really nice lips and hair and skin and she's got an amazing voice and if you're her friend, she'll look out for you no matter what.” Britt winked at a blushing Rachel. “Total package.”

Santana glared at the table a she grabbed her glass and downed half of its contents.

“And I bet she sounds amazing when she comes.”

“Brittany!” Quinn and Rachel both cried out, causing several of the club-goers not already doing so to look in their direction.

Santana slammed her glass back down, the remaining drink sloshed around from the force with some of it spilling onto the table. “I'm going to the ladies.” She growled, turned, then strode away.

“San, wait. I didn't-”

“This isn't your fault Rach.” Brittany placed a hand on Rachel's upper arm as she moved into Santana's spot. “It's mine. I shouldn't have come.”

“No. Don't say that. I mean, yes, maybe you shouldn't have been quite so... open with your comments but-”

“But nothing.” Britt took hold of Rachel's other arm and turned the shorter woman to face her. “This is on me, not you. I said that stuff, not you. And I meant every word of it. This is between me and San and you're trying to fix it which just proves I was right. ” She leaned in to press her forehead against Rachel's. “Total package.”

“Yes... well...” Rachel turned her head enough to glance over at Quinn before she pulled back. Brittany released her without hesitation before she moved back to her previous position opposite Rachel. “I should- one of us should-”

“I'll do it.”

Brittany looked over at Quinn and smiled. “My mess, Q. I'll clean it up.” She grabbed her purse and Santana's from the table. “Besides, someone needs to look out for Rachel in case some random hottie tries to seduce her." Brittany flashed Rachel another grin before turning a slightly more serious face on Quinn. "And you've kinda got a habit of smacking people in bathrooms.”

“It was one time!” Quinn protested, a look equal parts guilt and embarrassment on her face as she turned to Rachel only to find her already following Brittany as the blonde walked away.

“And I enjoyed it.” Rachel added in Quinn's defence, stopped, then turned back to Quinn. “I mean- Not the slap itself, obviously, but, you know, the drama of it.”

“I know.” Quinn dipped her head forward before running her hands through her hair as she looked up again. “I'm still sorry about it.”

“I forgave you a long time ago, Quinn.”

A half smile tilted Quinn's mouth. “You know she's right; you are the total package.”

Rachel's lips pulled back in a smile as a fresh wave of heat coloured her cheeks and she offered up a silent thanks for the relatively dim lighting of the club. “... Thank you. And likewise.”

Quinn laughed. “Please. I'm a lot of things, Rachel, but I'm no prize.”

“Yes you are.” Rachel's response was almost instinctive in its speed, her smile replaced by unshakable certainty.

Quinn swallowed. “I...” She picked up her drink — the fresh one — and stared into its depths. “Thanks.”

“You're welcome.” Rachel reclaimed the few steps she'd taken away from the table and picked up her own drink.

Neither of them drank or spoke for several moments.

“You think we should go check on them?”

Quinn looked up from her drink and over at the hallway that lead to the washrooms. “Give em a few minutes. If there's anyone that can talk her down, it's Britt and if there's one person she'd never hurt, it's Britt.”

“Even now?”

Quinn turned her eyes to Rachel who was still looking down at her drink “Especially now.”

A small smile pulled at the corners of Rachel's mouth. “I hope you're right.”

Quinn smiled. “I know I am.”

Rachel let out a short laugh, more from stress than because she found Quinn's words funny. “I have one, you know.”

Quinn's forehead wrinkled in confusion. “One what?”

Rachel looked over at Quinn. “Favourite pick up line.”

“Oh. Right. That.”

“Yes, that.” Rachel took a sip from her drink before she looked over at Quinn again. “Would you like to hear it?”

Quinn nodded.

“It's... It's a little embarrassing actually, that's why I took so long. I think its cute but I know Santana would only make fun of it so I was trying to think of something that she wou-”

“Rach-” Quinn reached out, her hand resting on the tabletop next to Rachel's. “-relax. If it helps I promise I wont laugh at you.”

Rachel pulled both of her lips over her teeth before releasing them with a soft *pop*. “... Would you like fries with that shake...”

Quinn laughed. “No, no!" she waved her hands in front of her when she saw the look of betrayal Rachel gave her. "I'm not laughing at you, I swear.”

“Well it sure as heck seems that way.”

“No.” Quinn stepped closer as she fought down her giggles. “Seriously. I promise I'm not laughing at _you_. It's just so...”

“Cheesy? Old Fashioned? Lame?” Rachel listed off, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

“Yes.”

Rachel shot Quinn another look and moved to the far side of their table.

Quinn followed. “Rachel, C'mon. I think it's cute too. I do, I really do. It's very you.”

“And what's that supposed to mean?” Rachel asked sharply as she kept her distance.

Quinn held her hands up in submission but continued to follow her. “I mean it's... you.”

Rachel fired off another look and continued to circle around to keep the table between herself and Quinn.

This time Quinn didn't follow and Rachel had to backtrack a few steps to keep her distance. “Rachel-”

“You just said I was the total package and now you think I'm lame.”

“I don't-”

“You just said-”

“You said lame. I said I thought the line was you. Old fashioned, yeah, but also cute and confidant and sweet and bold and charming." Quinn offered a small grin. "And just a little bit naughty."

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest. “Not Lame?”

“Not in the least.”

A deep breath filled Rachel's lungs. “Cheesy.”

“You're Vegan. Cheesy is the last thing you are.”

“Quinn.”

“What? You want me to tell you you've never done anything cheesy? Miss I-admire-the-drama-of-getting-slapped?”

“I don't think most people would count that as cheesy.”

“I do.” Quinn took a step towards Rachel and when Rachel didn't step away, she took another.

“So do you?”

_*step*_

“Do I what?”

_*step*_

Quinn placed a hand on Rachel's arm and gently pulled it free, her hand sliding down until it closed around Rachel's. “Do you like fries with your shake?”

Rachel looked up at Quinn. “I think that would depend on how hungry I was.”

“You two know people are watching you, right?”

* * *

“Rachel.” Quinn placed a hand on Rachel's shoulder and Rachel slapped it away as she spun around to face her.

“What!”

Quinn fell back a step.

Rachel moved forward. “How could you?”

_*step back / step forward*_

“How could I what?”

_*step back / step forward*_

“As if you don't know.”

“I don't!” Quinn held her ground.

Rachel was forced to back-pedal to avoid colliding with her. “What do you mean-”

“I mean I don't.” Quinn stepped forward, Rachel stepped back. “One minute you were talking to Santana and the next you were-” Quinn waved her hand in Rachel's direction. “-like this.”

Rachel stepped back, the box clutched against her chest now more shield than battering ram. “You really don't remember?”

Quinn stepped towards her. “Remember what?”

Rachel remained still. Quinn took another step. “Rachel, please; if you remembered something from last night-”

“I didn't.”

“Then-”

“I didn't remember it.” Rachel dropped her head forward, two fingers picking at a corner of the package in her arms. “I saw it.”

* * *

“I'm not picky, I'm a Vegan. There is a difference.”

“Yeah, you're even pickier than a vegetarian.”

Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, her lips drawn thin as she fixed Santana with a pointed look. “I'm going to assume you're still suffering the effects of your headache and proceed as if the last several seconds of conversation did not take place.”

Santana shrugged, her back still to Rachel as she continued to flick through the array of pamphlets, flyers, and brochures in the rack they both stood before. “You know what they say about assuming things.”

Rachel's eyes narrowed, her lips parting to once more reset their conversation.

*BRRRZZZT*

“What was that?”

Santana shifted her purse to her other shoulder. “What was what?”

*BRRRZZZT*

“That.”

“I don't hear nothing.”

*BRRRZZZT*”

“Putting aside your horrible grammar and the fact that it means you do, in fact, hear something; you do too hear it.”

*BRRRZZZT*

“No I don't.”

“Santana.” Rachel moved to Santana's other side as she reached for the other woman's purse.

“Hey, do I go grabbing your shit?” Santana jerked back, turning to face Rachel as she held her purse behind her back with both hands.”

“As a matter of fact, you do.” Rachel replied, the list of food, clothing, and personal supplies Santana had appropriated during her time in their apartment — both before and after she had officially become roommate number three — poised on the tip of her tongue.

*BRRRZZZT*

She swallowed the list. “You said your cell phone was dead.”

“Did I?”

“Santana.”

*BRRRZZZT*

“Give me your phone.” Rachel stepped closer.

Santana stepped back. “No.”

_*move ahead*_

“ **Give** me your phone.”

_*move back*_

“No.”

*BRRRZ-*

Santana smiled. “There, see. Nothing. You're hearing things.”

“Santana.” Rachel stomped her foot. “What are you hiding?”

“Nothing.” Santana sidled past Rachel as she returned to the rack. “Now can we please pick something to eat, you're paranoid when your hungry.”

Rachel looked over her shoulder to see if Quinn was done collecting her package and ready to join them. Two on one were much better odds.

*BRRRZZZT*

"Fuck."

Rachel turned back to see Santana bent at the waist, her head pressed against the wall above the rack of flyers. “Will you just answer your phone already. It could be important. We can discuss why you lied about it later.”

“Fine. But you stay right where you are.” Santana pulled her phone out of her purse, her back turned to Rachel. As much a mistake, it turned out, as not waiting for Rachel to agree to her terms.

“What the hell is that?” Rachel's voice filled Santana's left ear and she spun to see a very confused Rachel still staring at the phone in her hand. The phone still on its lock screen. A lock screen that showed Santana kissing one Quinn Fabray.”

“I can explain.”

“Oh can you?” Rachel looked up, the confusion replaced by a cold anger.

“I- uh.”

“Go on." Rachel crossed her arms over her chest, one eyebrow cocked as she stared Santana in the eye. "I'm waiting.”

“Okay, I can't explain it but you can't be mad at me over this.”

Rachel dropped her hands to her side, each balled up into a fist. “You're kissing my wife.”

“Which you didn't even know you had until you woke up.”

“That's not an excuse.”

“Like hell it isn't.” Santana shoved her phone back into her purse. “You were just as drunk as the rest of us, Berry. None of us knew what we were doing last night, and you're no different so don't go blaming me 'cause your girl wanted a little spice before she chained herself to you.” Santana stormed past Rachel, knocking the smaller woman hard in the shoulder as she made her way to the front doors.

Rachel didn't wait to see her leave. She spun around on her toes and strode over to the front desk, grabbing Quinn by the arm as soon as she was close enough to do so.

“We're leaving.”

* * *

“Rachel...”

“Don't... I know I screwed up. Santana was right, none of us were sober enough to be responsible for our actions last night. For all I know that photo was taken before we... you know. I shouldn't- I can't hold either of you responsible for what you did any more than I can hold you responsible for what we did and I completely understand if you want to go back to the apartment to get your things and leave. I'll take care of getting our marriage annulled and find some way to apologize to Santana for overreac-”

Rachel fell silent as she felt arms wrap around her.

“Breath, Rachel.”

Rachel looked up into Quinn's eyes, a small smile on the blonde's face.

“But-”

“But nothing. This isn't your fault. At least it's no more your fault than mine or San's... well' maybe San's. But like you said, we were all _way_ too drunk last night and if we're lucky, a kiss will be near the top of the list of the crazy we got up to-” Quinn went silent when she saw a frown pull at Rachel's mouth. “Rachel?

“It's nothing.”

“Rachel...”

“It's...” Rachel sucked in a breath then let it out slowly. “I know I said I would take care of getting it annulled and I will if that's what you want but I- I don't like thinking of our marriage as 'crazy'.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” Quinn frowned. “You know I didn't-”

“It's okay if you do. Like I said, I know I s-”

“It's not.”

Rachel bite down on her lip. “It's not what?”

Quinn drew a breath, then gave her head a nod. “It's not crazy. I mean it's not how I saw myself getting married-”

“Oh, me either. I wanted the whole big wedding with flowers and-”

“-I remember.”

Rachel's smile was equal parts heartache and happiness. “Yes, I suppose you would.” She gave Quinn a slightly accusatory look. “Not that you actually made it to my last wedding.

“Not my fault.”

“You were texting while driving. You know how dangerous that is-”

“I do now.”

“That's not funny.”

“You two do know people are watching you, right?”

Quinn and Rachel turned their heads to find Santana, arms crossed over her chest and a new pair of cheap sunglasses over her eyes.

“San-”

“Save it. I'll assume you're still suffering the effects of your hangover and proceed as if the last several seconds of our conversation never happened.”

Rachel's smile grew a little more. “Thank you. But I'm still going to tell you I'm sorry none-the-less. Even if it was at least partly your fault.”

“Of course you are.” Santana said dryly, the hint of a smile just barely visible at the corners of her mouth. “Now, if you two are done making out in the middle of the sidewalk, can we please go get some food.”

“Oh, right.”

Rachel and Quinn turned back to each other before each took a step back, Quinn's arms falling to her side.

“Looks like I got back just in time. Why didn't you tell me you were going out?”

The trio turned to face a beaming Brittany, a bag of take-out tucked in one arm and a cardboard tray of drinks resting in her other hand. “And why didn't you answer your phone?” She turned her focus on Santana.

“Britt?” Rachel stepped forward. “Where have you been?”

“Getting us breakfast, silly.” Brittany shook her head at Rachel. “Though I guess it's technically lunch cause we all got up so late.”

“Wait.” Quinn squinted at Brittany as a memory started to surface. “Didn't you... aren't you supposed to be on a flight by now?”

Rachel nodded. “Yes, I remember now. Your flight was delayed over some technical problem.”

“Nope.” Britt replied, handing the tray of drinks off to Santana as she moved over to Rachel. “Is that the pictures.”

“The what?” Rachel looked down at the box in her arms as Britt bent over to read the shipping label.

“Our pictures. And yep, they are.” Britt straightened up and looked down at Rachel. “You okay? You kinda out of it.” She looked around at the other two. “You all seem kinda out of it.”

“Just a little.” Quinn replied. 

“What do you mean, 'Nope'.”

“Seriously?” Britt turned to face Santana. “I know you were all pretty drunk last night but we talked about this. And then Quinn and Rachel took off to get some ice and then you took off to find them and _none of you ever came back_.” Brittany shook her head as she look over at Rachel. “Talk about wasting a honeymoon, am I right?”

“Remind me.”

Britt looked over at Santana, then Quinn and Rachel, then back. “I quit my job."

“You what? Rachel squeaked.

“Well I can't go touring around the world and leave my wife all alone.”

“Wife?” Quinn and Rachel gasped.

“Yeah.” A smiling Brittany leaned down to press her forehead against Rachel's. “My wife.”

Rachel turned her head enough to look over at a suddenly nauseous Quinn. "I-"

“You-” Santana choked out.

“You.” Britt beamed as she skipped over to Santana and planted a kiss on her lips. “And don't worry, I still love you even if you did skip out on our sweet lady kisses and honey-moon sexy times.” Britt slipped her free arm around Santana's waist and pressed a kiss against her cheek before she looked over at Quinn and Rachel and gave them a wink. “So long as you weren't making the moves on any other hot blondes, that is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Published: 24 06 2016 (24th, June)
> 
> For those of you following my tumblr (which is actually getting fairly regular updates now that I'm on this once-a-week minimum update plan), you already know how excited I am about this chapter (and how much I'm dying to know what you all think). I know this was mostly flash-backs without a whole lot of 'new' material (and we'll be having a few more flashbacks to the beginning of their night in the next chapter if not the next few so fair warning) but the last couple of chapters have been fairly heavy on the aftermath of their girl's night out and I need to fill in at least a few more of the blanks if we're ever going to get to what exactly went down between these four. 
> 
> I've already started on the next chapter but I'm also working on the next chapter of _"If You Go Down In The Woods Today"_ so I'm not sure which will be the official update for next week (also, I'm thinking of making Friday the official 'release' day for each week simply because the weekend seems to be when most people read these updates). If you have an opinion on that, please let me know. 
> 
> And, again, I really would love to know what you all thought of this chapter as it was both one of the most fun to write (so far) and one that I'm super excited to post for you all to read so extra cookies to anyone that takes time to comment (a kudos is lovely too, but a comment would be extra special).
> 
> Ah, hell. Cookies for everyone (but still extra cookies for commenters [which spell check is telling me isn't a word but I'm still going to use it]).
> 
> Until the next update, Enjoy.


	13. Un-Belle-ieveable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Britt's back and bringing the answers that our confused Trio very much need.
> 
> Right?
> 
> Well, she's certainly bringing some things to light. Whether or not anyone wants to hear them remains to be seen.

"So you're telling me none of you remember last night?" Brittany tore off a chunk off her double blueberry muffin and waved it at the others spread around her hotel suite — the _for better_ counterpart to the _for worse_ room Quinn, Rachel, and Santana had woken up in. "Like, at all?"

"Not really, Quinn replied from her spot on one end of the divan that sat at the end of the King sized bed that still didn't come close to filling the suite's bedroom; her own BLT bagel mdash; extra bacon mdash; still sitting fully wrapped on her lap.

"Some bits and pieces have come back to us but it's all sort of a jumble." Rachel added, her own veggie wrap — non vegan, but she appreciated the thought — lay unwrapped but otherwise untouched next to her on the other end of the divan. "We're not really sure how it all fits together. But now that you're here, you can help fill in the blanks."

"Mmmm." Britt hummed as she chewed, her eyes flicking over to Santana — who hadn't spoken since they'd stepped back into the Hotel — where she sat in an overstuffed chair against the far wall, her eyes fixed on the chocolate muffin held in both hands.

"Brittany?"

Britt turned back to Rachel and swallowed. "Yeah… about that…"

"Britt?" Quinn leaned forward.

"I, um, I might not have spent the whole night with you guys."

Rachel looked over at Quinn then back to Brittany who was now, much like her wife, staring down at her muffin. "Why not?"

Britt tore off another chunk and squeezed it between her fingers. "There might have been a fight."

* * *

“My mess, Q. I'll clean it up.” Brittany grabbed her purse and Santana's from the table. “Besides, someone needs to look out for Rachel in case some random hottie tries to seduce her. And you've kinda got a habit of smacking people in bathrooms.” Britt added before she headed off after Santana. A smile pulled at her lips when Quinn called out, "It was one time!”

The smile was still there as she took her place at the end of the line waiting outside the Womens restroom. Right behind Santana. "Hey."

Santana didn't even bother to look over her shoulder before she stepped out of the line and pushed past the guy exiting the Mens room as she headed inside.

"Hey, Lady-"

"I wouldn't." Britt put her hand on his arm and shook her head when he turned around to face her. "She's kind of angry and you wouldn't like her when she's angry."

"Why? Is she the Hulk?" The guy scoffed as Brittany slipped past him.

Britt stopped the door from closing behind her and leaned through the remaining gap. "I think you mean She-hulk." She corrected him. "And she's more of a Shego."

"What? Hey!" The latter was said after Brittany pushed the door closed and clicked the lock. The pounding against the door ignored as she bent over to peek under the doors of the stalls lined up against one wall.

"Sa-an."

"What is it with you two and that stupid show?"

Brittany smiled. "It's not stupid and you're totally a Shego."

The stall two down from Brittany opened up and she turned around to see Santana step out. "She was pretty hot for a green chick." Santana said as she headed towards the sinks and started checking her make-up in the mirror. "But we both know I was a Bonnie back in high-school."

"Does that make me your Brock?"

Santana's reflection focused on Brittany. "You aren't my anything."

"I know."

"And I don't need you checking on me."

"I know."

"And I left cause I need to take a piss, not because you were getting all gross over Berry."

"If you say so."

Santana turned around to face her ex directly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Britt shrugged. "Nothing."

"Don't play dumb with me, B, it never worked in high-school and it sure as hell aint gonna work now."

"Hello? Is someone in there? The door's locked."

Both women looked over at the exit, then back to each other.

"What did you mean by that?"

"If someone is in there can you open the door."

"Hold it like the two hundred women out there have to." Santana shouted, her eyes never leaving Britt. "What did you mean?"

"You know what I meant."

"Say it."

"You're jealous."

"Fuck you." Santana closed the distance between them and jabbed a finger into Brittany's chest. "You don't get to show up out of the blue and act like you have any claim on me."

"Technically, if I'm acting like I have a claim on anybody, it's on Rachel." Brittany countered. "And you're the one that broke up with me so if anyone needs to get fucked, it's you."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Santana growled as she spun around and put the length of the room between them before she turned back. "And don't give me that mechanical failure shit. You honestly think I believe that some globe trotting pop star is going to sit around and wait for a mechanic to show up when she'd got a concert to get to. No! That bitch is gonna rent herself a G-six and fly her whole fucking crew there and get her shit done."

Britt shrugged. "Do you like Rachel?"

"Don't. Don't fucking change the subject."

"This is the subject, San. You're pissed that I flirted with Rachel and called you on it."

"That's not what's happening here."

"So you don't like her?"

"It doesn't fucking matter how I feel for her. She's not-"

Brittany gave Santana a small smile. "She's not what, San."

"… Fuck off." Santana walked back to the sinks and turned a faucet on high, letting the cold water wash over her hands until they started to feel numb before splashing her face.

"Why are you here?"

"She's not what, San?"

"You. Alright." Santana spun around, her mascara smudged from the water and the tears in her eyes. "She's not fucking you."

"I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered if she was."

Santana's eyes narrowed. "You think this is funny? You think showing up and tearing my heart out is fucking hilarious?"

"No."

"Then don't fucking joke about it."

"Hello?"

"Go Away!" Both woman shouted at the door.

"You can't-"

"Fuck Off!" Britt added. The half smile that appeared on Santana's lips matched by one of her own before it slipped away.

"You dumped me, San. You don't get to be mad at me about this."

"So that's why you're here, to get back at me."

"I'm here because I missed you."

Santana held Britt's eyes with her own for a few seconds before she looked down at the floor. "That's not fair."

"So maybe I'm a _little_ pissed at you, too." Brittany shrugged. "Doesn't mean I don't still think about you? Or worry about you? Or wonder if you've found someone else-"

"There's no one else."

Brittany's smile grew as San looked up at her again. "Not even Rachel?"

"I swear to god, B, you bring her up again and I'll…"

"You'll…" Brittany stepped towards Santana. "You'll what, San?"

Santana stepper toward Brittany. "I'll go all Shego on her ass."

They both took a step forward. 

"Well we can't have that. Quinn would never forgive us."

Two more steps, one for each of them.

"Shut it. No talking about her either."

Brittany tilted her head to the side, her smile growing again as Santana's hands closed on her hips. "Make me."

…

"Open the Fucking Door!"

Santana pulled back from their kiss and glared over Brittany's shoulder.

"Let it go, San."

Santana looked back at Brittany. She shrugged. "Whatever."

"C'mon. They who shall not be named are waiting for us."

A derisive snort filled Santana's nose. "Please, they're probably doing that flirt-with-each-other-but-never-admit-it thing again."

"Same thing."

Another round of pounding at the door broke the growing silence, this time followed by the sound of the lock being opened from the other side and a very stern faced older man stepped into view. "You ladies wanna tell me what the he-"

"Oh thank you so much." Brittany cried out as she raced to embrace the man in a tight hug. "We thought we were going to be stuck in here forever but you saved us."

"Wha- But-" The man looked over his shoulder at the small collection of men standing outside looking in with a mix of expressions from confusion to anger to open admiration of the women inside — both physical and their performance.

"Yeah, you're a real hero." Santana said with a touch of acid to her voice as she pulled Britt away and out of the room, the crowd around the door parted before them after a glare from the brunette.

"Bye. Have fun peeing." Brittany called back to them as she gave a parting wave.

Santana just shook her head, her hand tight on Britt's as she headed to the end of the hallway way. "B?"

"Yeah?" Britt leaned in closer.

"You know this doesn't change anything, right? I mean… the reasons I broke up with you, they're still there."

"Yeah." Brittany nodded, then wrapped her free arm around the one holding her hand. "But I still miss you."

Santana nodded, her eyes fixed on Quinn and Rachel talking back at their table. It looked like they were having another one of their flirt-fights. She shook her head.

"B?"

"Yeah?"

"One night's better than nothing."

Brittany pressed her lips against San's cheek. "I love you too."

"C'mon." Santana gave Britt's hand a squeeze. "Let's got break those two up before they do something stupid."

"Stupider than not being together?"

San pressed her lips together. “We're still talking about them, right?”

Brittany tilted her head, resting it against Santana's as she curled her arm a little tighter around the brunette's and smiled. “Mostly.”

“I kinda deserved that one.”

“Definitely.”

Santana shook her head, gently rocking Brittany's in the process. “You try'n to make me change my mind?”

“Never.”

* * *

“I'm confused.” Quinn tucked her legs under her as she spoke, her feet pointed towards Rachel. “Why did you leave us after that? You two made up?”

“Wait, did you think that-” Brittany shook her head. “It wasn't a fight with San that split us up last night.”

“Then who-”

“You.”

Quinn's eyes squinted as her head cocked to the left a bit. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“What did we-”

“You thought I was hot?”

“Rachel!” Quinn's head snapped around.

“What?”

“Not everything's about you, Berry.” Santana's dryly dismissive voice joined in the discussion.

“Well excuse me for thinking it might be pertinent.” Rachel fired back. “It was part of the reasons you two fought after all,” Rachel waved a finger between Brittany and Santana then turned to Quinn. “And given that we're married it makes some sense that you and she might have a fight over me.” Rachel let out a little huff of breath. “Besides, Twenty four hours ago I was single, heterosexual and, to my knowledge, none of my friends were harbouring any lesbian crushes on me-” San and Brit exchanged a glance. “-so you'll have to forgive me for focusing on such a _minor_ detail like Brittany finding me attractive.”

“Bi crush.” Britt corrected.

“Can you have a bi crush?” Santana asked. “On one person anyway, wouldn't there need to be two people at least?”

“If they're intersexed you'd only need one.” Brittany pointed out before she popped another chunk of muffin into her mouth.

“I guess that makes sense.” Santana shrugged. “Unlike Rachel being straight.”

“Hey!”

“You married a woman; short of a pulling up with a u-haul after the first date, that's pretty much the definition of being a lesbian.”

Rachel opened her mouth to protest again only to give a small conciliatory nod of her head.

“Okay, hold on a second.” Quinn waved both hands to stop anyone else from speaking, “While we're on the subject of getting married,” Quinn faced Brittany, “You married us, right? We didn't just imagine you being there?”

“Yeah, that was me.”

Quinn glanced at Rachel who now had her arms folded over her chest, then licked her lips as she turned back to Brittany. “So... does that mean we aren't...” Quinn turned back to Rachel to find her with her head down and her hands in her lap as she twisted her ring around her finger. “Are we really...”

“Hitched?” Brittany asked. “Yup.”

The small smile on Rachel's face faded when she looked over at Quinn to see her focused on Brittany.

“But how?”

“I got ordained. We both did.”

Quinn sat up straighter. “I got ordained?” 

“No.” Britt shook her head. “You guys really don't remember last night at all. I got ordained online so that I could marry you and Rach, then Rach got ordained so that she could marry me and San.”

“I'm ordained?”

“Yeah.”

“But...” Rachel looked around the room before settling on Brittany. “But I'm Jewish.”

“So? I don't think you had to convert or anything, just go on the site and register.”

“My Dads are so not going to be happy about this.” Rachel mumbled before leaning over to rest her head on Quinn's leg.

Quinn unconsciously slipped her fingers through Rachel's hair a moment later.

“On the list of shit you need to tell them about, that's gonna be the least of their problems.” Santana pointed out.

“San-” Quinn started only to be cut off by Santana when she added, “And before we get any further off topic, can we go back to the whole _you left us 'cause of a fight with Q_ thing so we can figure out how much of last night we still need to fill in?”

Brittany nodded. “Well, we were on our third club of the night." She shook her head. "We didn't spend a lot of time at the second, it was lame. Anyway, we were at the club and it started with Rachel.”

“Knew it.” Rachel said softly.

* * *

"Toto!" Rachel cried out excitedly as a new song began to play over the speakers, her head already bobbing to the beat. "Hold the line- dah dah dah dum -Love isn't always on time!" 

Santana shook her head and looked over at the DJ booth to find out what Eighties reject would request this song. “What the hell is that?” She coughed around a mouthful of her drink — her sixth of the night, first since they'd arrived at the club — while gesturing to the dance floor.

Quinn turned in her seat to look over her shoulder. “What?” she asked as she scanned the crowd until she spotted the rapidly clearing circle around one woman. “The one with the weird hat?”

“Is she okay?” Britt asked, one hand rubbing Santana's back as she eyed the dark haired, angular woman moving through a seemingly random set of steps with all the grace of a spastic broomstick. “She looks a little green.”

“She'd have to be sick to think that's dancing. She makes Finn look good.”

“San, don't be rude.” Rachel chastised her roommate. “And don't be mean to Finn. Not everyone can have Brittany's natural talent or my years of training.” She took a pull on the straw that came with her drink — her fifth of the evening and her second since they'd arrived — before she turned in her own seat to see who the other three were talking about. “...Oh my.”

“Still think I was being rude?”

“Aww, look. Her girlfriend is dancing with her now.” Rachel cooed happily.

Santana shook her head as she watched the tiny blonde join the taller woman and somehow turn the latter's jerky motions into an almost decent dance.

Rachel grabbed Quinn's hand without looking. “See. How sweet is that?”

“Yeah, Yeah.” Santana turned away from the dance floor and pulled Brittany into her lap, earning a happy little laugh from her own girlfriend.

At the sound, Quinn looked up from Rachel's hand wrapped around her own. “What makes you think they're girlfriends?” She asked as she turned back to the table. “Maybe they're just good friends and they want to look out for each other.”

Rachel settled back into her seat and gave Quinn's hand a squeeze as she took another pull at her straw. “That's what I meant. They're girlfriends like we are.”

Brittany and Santana exchanged a glance.

“Like we all are." Quinn clarified. "Well, except Brittany and Santana who are very much the other sort of girlfriend.”

Rachel corrected.

“Only for tonight.” Santana growled.

Quinn and Rachel shared a look.

“Either way, I'm happy for the both of you.” Rachel said before she took another pull from her straw only to look down into her cup when all she got for her trouble was the gurgle of an empty glass.

“You're done already?” Quinn asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

“It's very tasty.” Rachel said defensively as she pulled her hand away from Quinn's before she turned to Santana. “What did you say it's called?”

“I didn't.” Santana answered.

“The Shiz.” Brittany actually answered.

Rachel's nose wrinkled as she looked back into her glass. “You had me drink something called 'The Shiz'?” She put her empty cup onto the table and pushed it away “That doesn't sound the least bit appetizing.”

“Good.” Quinn pulled Rachel's glass closer to her own — her third of the night and first here — mostly empty drink. “You should probably switch to water anyway.”

Rachel's forehead wrinkled. “I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself, Quinn Fabray, and I can decide for myself how much I can and will drink.” She let out an angry little huff of breath before a smile spread her lips as she leaned over to slip her arms around Quinn's neck and rested her head on Quinn's shoulder. “But thank you for looking after me.” Rachel turned her head so her chin was on Quinn's shoulder. “You're the best girlfriend ever.”

Her forehead wrinkled again and she pulled back slightly. “And you're all pink. Are you okay?” Her eyes went wide as she pulled back so quickly that Santana had to thrust a hand out to keep Rachel from falling out of her seat.”

“Whoa there, Berry.”

“What if you caught what the green girl has. Quick, Quinn, get up and see if you can still dance.”

“Rachel-”

“Do it!” Rachel leaned towards Quinn again, half trying to push the blonde out of her seat and half trying to pull her to her feet.

Quinn looked over at the other two and sighed when she saw the expressions on their faces that made it clear they weren't going to help her.

“Fine, but only because you'll spend the rest of the night worrying about me if I don't.” Quinn took Rachel's hands in hers and gently press them down on Rachel's lap, then got out of her seat.

Rachel brought her hands to her chest, fingers crossed. “Please don't be sick, please don't be sick.” She chanted, her eyes fixed on Quinn.

“Yeah, Quinn, show us you don't have the jitter bug.”

Santana's comment earned her a glare from Quinn and a shocked gasp from Rachel.

“I've heard of that. Oh Quinn, my poor, beautiful Quinn. What will you do if you can never dance again.” Rachel mourned as if Quinn's diagnosis was inevitable.

“You could always dance with her.” Britt offered. “It cured that other girl when her girlfriend danced with her.”

“Oooh. Yes!” Rachel jumped to her feet and this time it was Quinn who offered a steadying hand. Two of them, one on Rachel's shoulder and the other at her waist.

Rachel looked down at the hands and then back at Quinn. “I was thinking something a little more contemporary but traditional works too. Rachel slipped her hands together behind Quinn's neck and started to sway to the beat coming from the dance floor. 

“Dancing through life, here at the Ozdust-” Rachel sang along to the song as she pulled Quinn closer.

Santana looked at Brittany. “How does she know the words?”

Britt shrugged. “You're her roommate.”

“Yeah but-”

“Shhh.” Brittany pressed a finger against Santana's lips then pointed it to where Quinn and Rachel were dancing, both with their eyes closed, Quinn's hand now joined together above the small of Rachel's back. “Watch.”

“It's not gonna-” Santana's whisper was cut short by another finger followed by Brittany's lips.

“Shhh.”

Santana nodded and wrapped her arms around Brittany's waist as they both turned back to dancing couple.

“All cured.” Rachel said a few minutes later, almost too softly for Quinn to hear even with the Rachel's mouth close enough to brush her earlobe.

“Uh, thanks.” Quinn swallowed as Rachel pulled back, giving Quinn a clear view of the Rachel's self satisfied smile fading away almost as soon as she saw Quinn's face.

“You're still all pink.”

“It's just cause she's hot.” Britt jumped off Santana's lap — to an indignant cry from Santana — and grabbed Quinn's hand. “We'll go get another round of drinks to cool off.”

Rachel watched them disappear into the crowd, worry still on her face when she turned back to Santana. “Are you hot.”

Santana leaned forward, cocked an eyebrow at Rachel as she reached across the table to take Quinn's abandoned glass, and laughed. “Please, I'm the definition of hot.”

“Wait, my purse-”

“I got it.” Brittany held up a plastic card as she cut off Quinn's protest and continued to lead them towards the bar, weaving them through the crowd with all the grace you'd expect from a professional dancer and when that didn't work, the application of a few well placed elbows.

“Ow. Hey-”

“Sorry. Emergency.” Britt called over her shoulder without slowing down.

“What emergency?” Quinn asked though whether Brittany didn't hear her question, or heard and decided not to answer she didn't know.

“Whew. This place is packed.” Brittany released her hold on Quinn's hand as the reached the bar and returned the nod the barman gave to tell her he'd be there in a moment.

“Yeah.” Quinn picked up a book of matches from a bowl on the bar and slowly turned it over and over between her fingers.

“So-” Brittany looked over at Quinn. “Rach, huh?”

“What?” Quinn's looked up. “What do you mean, 'Rach'?”

“Nothing.” Brittany shrugged and turned back to the bar.

“It's clearly something or you wouldn't have brought it up.”

“Okay.” Britt turned back to face Quinn. “Do you like her?”

“What?” Quinn shook her head. “I, no. I mean I like her as a friend, sure but that's all.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Quinn gave her head a hard nod. “... Why?”

“No reason.”

“Britt.”

“Hey, what can I get you lovely ladies tonight.” The barman — Boq according to his name tag — asked. “You are together, right?”

“Yes.” Brittany said.

“No.” Quinn said.

The Barman quirked an eyebrow as he looked back and forth between them.

“She means we're just friends.”

“Oh. Okay, whatever.” The barman wipe his towel across the top of the bar. “So what can I get you and your friend?”

“Two of the Shiz-es, An Emerald City special and,” Britt turned to Quinn. “What do you want?”

Quinn's eyes scanned the menu written in day-glow paint on the chalk board behind the bar. “I'll have a Ruby Slipper.”

“What?” The bartender turned, then shook his head as he turned back. “Sorry. That's supposed to say Silver slipper.” He shot a glance down the bar to where another barman was making a show of pouring a drink. “Some jack-ass keeps changing it.”

“Whatever. I'll have one of them.”

“Coming up.”

Quinn waited till he'd taken several steps away to prepare their drinks before pulling Brittany closer. “Why does it matter if I like Rachel or not?”

“Do you like her?”

“We've been over this.”

“Do you _like_ her?”

Quinn swallowed. “Do you?”

“Absolutely.” Britt smiled. “She's hot, she's funny, she's a little bit bossy which-” Brittany leaned in closer, “-I kinda like. If you're not interested I figured I'd give it a shot, see if she's interested.”

“But you're with San.”

“Please, you think this is our first threesome?” Britt shook her head. “I'm still kinda pissed I missed out when you two did it.”

Quinn's face blanked. “She- She told you about that?”

“Well, yeah.” Brittany gave her a look that made it clear she thought it was obvious that would be the case. “We may have been broken up when you two hooked up but you can't have a relationship work if you're keeping secrets. You have to be honest and open. Even about the bits you're worried they might not like.”

“But-”

“And from what she told me, you were pretty open to it so I figured that maybe you might have a thing for Rachel, what with you two being all close and stuff and how much you two obviously care for each other and you're always there for each other but if I was wrong then, yeah, I mean if San's down for it and Rach is down for it, why not.”

“Because she's not like that.” Quinn snapped back. “And even if she was, she's not _that_ kind of girl. She wants love and romance and little notes left on her pillow in the morning, someone who knows her favourite colour and flower and what kind of vegan ice-cream she likes when she's feeling sad and what kind she likes when she's feeling happy. She doesn't want random threesomes with her roommate and her roommate's girlfriend who's leaving town in twelve hours. And she sure as hell doesn't want or need anyone taking advantage of her when she's drunk.”

Britt watched Quinn for several seconds before the sound of Boq clearing his throat cause Quinn to spin back to the bar.

“Your ah, your drinks.”

Quinn looked at the four glasses, then back at Brittany before heading back to their table.

A small smile pulled at Brittany's lips before she placed her card on the bar next to the drinks. “You take debit, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Published: 09 07 2016 (9th, July)**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> As you may have noticed, this chapter is... well there's no other way to put it but **big** adding approximately 20% (~4100) of the word count of the story thus far (~19000) in one go. I was tempted to split it in half but couldn't find an adequate break point (though it does end on something of a cliffhanger [sorry]).
> 
> Yes, I could probably have taken some bits out (and may do so in a later re-edit) but for now everything that's here (aside from a few throw away jokes that I hope you all found funny) is here for a reason even if that reason isn't clear yet.
> 
> Either way, I hope you enjoyed it and would love to hear from you either way.
> 
> Till next time.
> 
>  **Revised: 09/10/11 07 2016 (9th, 10th, 11th, July)** \- Moderate editorial changes.
> 
> Added/tweaked several sections for clarity (along with adjusting past chapters [4,9] to better establish story elements — my bad, sorry folks) and corrected typos. I may make some changes but hopefully these will clear things up (as will the next chapter).
> 
> And yes, I know that Toto's _Hold The Line_ is from 78, not the 80s but that doesn't mean Santana does.

**Author's Note:**

> Re-posting some of my Tumblr stories here. Nothing terribly new but new to AO3 so take that for what you will. Some minor editing from the original versions.
> 
> For reasons I can't remember, I wanted to name this story "How To Ring A Belle". I just now remembered why. It's a pun. A horrible pun. So I'm keeping it. 
> 
> Also, holy crap the typos. It's like my fingers had a mind of their own when I wrote these.


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